


Crystal Clear

by Qtip



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, Romance, Sexual Tension, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-09-17 15:35:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 27,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9331784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qtip/pseuds/Qtip
Summary: “One ought to hold on to one's heart; for if one lets it go, one soon loses control of the head too".― Friedrich NietzscheAs Noctis struggles with the headaches induced by Titan's summons Ignis searches for a way to alleviate Noctis's pain. But the solution may have brought about a change in their previously well-defined relationship none of them were expecting.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! This is my first FFXV and first IgNoct fic. Very slow burn, as with everything I write it seems. :P

_One ought to hold on to one's heart; for if one lets it go, one soon loses control of the head too._

_― Friedrich Nietzsche_

 

***

 

Sometimes it was easy to forget that the sleepy, surly kid in the back of the car was Lucian royalty. Sometimes even easier to forget what it meant to be Lucian royalty. But fate had a way of issuing a reminder that was not so easily ignored.

The first headache had been so dramatic, so out of the blue. Noctics tended to carefully maintain a blank façade, weary of people reading too many things into the prince’s expression or tone of voice. Seeing him wince and stumble, the look of confusion and pain cascade across his face had cut deeper than he expected.

The summons of a god was not subtle. Or painless.

He wasn’t the prince’s bodyguard like Gladiolous, tasked with rushing to his side at the first sign of trouble. His hands clenched in a futile anger he found difficult to master. Another thing he couldn’t control. The king was dead – and he could do nothing. The prince reduced to a vagabond existence – what could he do? Nothing. The emperor taking their fates, their futures and throwing them to the side like so many broken toys – and he could do nothing.

The prince’s headaches were ultimately just one more thing on a long list of things which he was unable to control or even influence. Some part of himself began hating the sight of the Disc on the horizon.

The subsequent headaches were not as bad, or at least it seemed so to the naked eye. Though the prince did occasionally stumble or wince, Ignis became increasingly concerned that these were not the only headaches the prince was experiencing. He could see him through the rear-view mirror, staring out the window, his jaw silently working, tensing, his shoulders slowly creeping up, his fists tightly clenched in his lap harder and harder until they released and tension slowly drained away. Sometimes he stayed that way for hours and went to bed without supper, claiming he was tired. Ignis suspected headache-induced nausea. He’d stumble out of his tent each morning, late, looking pale and yet again disinclined to eat.

The prince’s mood went through the floor, which considering the prince already had the sullen charm of most teenagers, was quite a bit of a statement. Even Gladiolous privately expressed frustration at Noctis bratty behavior.

Ignis was not a fan of improvising, or leaving problems unattended. He briefly considered getting a medical professional to give the prince a check-up but quickly dismissed it. Between convincing Noctis to actually go, Prompto and Gladiolous’s fretting and the very real danger of being discovered by the empire another solution had to be found, unless the situation became truly dire - and Ignis was determined it would not come to that. Instead, he looked for alternate solutions. There were a myriad of suggestions online and once the obviously fake and useless ones had been eliminated (the prince did not need more exercise, in fact, if he fought fewer monsters and provoked fewer encounters with the empire’s MT units Ignis would be a happy man. Similarly trying to “stress less” and “engage in some relaxing aromatherapy” were equally preposterous), the remaining few choices provided some interesting options for further research. He grew increasingly confident that he had found a viable solution, save one infinitesimal obstacle.

The solution struck him as… rather intimate, not the forte of himself or the prince for that matter, but what choice did he have?  He would at least convince the prince to give it a try.

They’d made camp yet again somewhere in the middle of nowhere with lights to keep the daemons at bay and desolate enough that the empire hopefully wouldn’t have troops on patrol. Gladiolous was off in the tent doing something with his broadsword (and had informed the rest of them in so many words that weapon’s maintenance was important business and he would knock them all on their asses if they made another “polish your sword” joke), Prompto had gone to bug him about it anyway. Ignis was washing dishes, shirt-sleeves pushed up over his elbows. He doubted Noctis really remembered he was still there as he sat cross-legged on the ground, gazing into the fire. His hand crept up into his hair, pulling hard enough that Ignis could see his eyes watering in pain. Ignis carefully toweled off his hands and put the last of the plates back where they belonged with a clink before walking back to the fire and sitting down in the camp chair next to Noctis. His hand relaxed now, as if he’d just been brushing some stray hairs out of his face.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, just gazing into the fire. Then, “Your head hurts.” A statement of fact. Clean. Simple.

“It’s not that bad,” Noctics muttered.

“It’s bad enough that you’re not sleeping properly, you’re snapping at everyone including Prompto, and you won’t eat even your favourite foods.” Ignis paused trying to gauge the prince’s reaction “Are you having visions all the time as well?” he asked unusually gently.

Noctics brushed a hand through his hair, “no, they’re so sudden I can’t… it’s pretty obvious when I have them, and the headache is different than these they just… stay.”

“I’ve looked into possible solutions,” Ignis began carefully, casting a glance at Noctis skeptical expression.

“Of course you did,” Notics muttered, “always prepared.”

Ignis ignored the barb, “are you willing to try them?” _Or would you prefer stewing in your own pain for another week?_ He added mentally to himself, a little nettled.

A sigh, then, “fine. What do we do?”

Ignis beckoned for Noctis to sit closer in front of him.

 “What are you doing?” Noctics sounded as if he wasn’t sure if he should be worried or skeptical.

“Scalp and shoulder massages have been established in several respectable peer-reviewed studies to decrease and relieve tension headaches.”

“You have got to be kidding me” Noctis twisted around to look at him, “Have you ever done this before?”

“Do I look like the kind of person who walks about giving random shoulder rubs to people?” Ignis asked tartly. “The science is sound. Unless you’d prefer visiting a doctor..?”

 “You’re nuts. I’m only doing this because Gladio and Prompto’s gone to bed” Noctics muttered sullenly as he settled down in front of Ignis.

Ignis hesitated for a moment before raising his hands and gently placing his fingertips on the prince’s head. He’d watched several videos with instructions on how to do this but it was as with any practical skill, perfection of the art only came with practice. Noctis’s hair was softer and silkier than he had expected as he tentatively massaged the prince’s scalp. He could smell the shampoo the prince favoured – citrus.  Fingers moving in concentric circles, he adjusted the pressure based on what seemed to elicit a positive response. Noctics didn’t say anything but Ignis could feel how tension slowly seemed to drain away below his fingers as his confidence in the method grew he moved closer to the tight jaw muscles as Noctis pulled his legs up and rested his head on his knees. The fire crackled quietly, sending sparks into the cool evening air towards the emerging stars. Ignis slowly worked down towards his neck and shoulders, quietly working out each knot.

He wasn’t sure how long they sat there but the last light of the sun had disappeared and his fingers were starting to feel the strain when he finally stopped. His hands rested on the prince’s back for a while, feeling the regular, rhythmic breathing and the heat radiating from Noctis’s body. He hesitated for a moment, suddenly unsure on how to break the atmosphere that had enveloped them.  

“Feeling better?” He finally asked, unusually soft, as Noctis straightened up. The prince nodded, not saying anything. Following his quiet lead Ignis stood up and lent the prince a hand in rising. He probably felt a bit awkward, if Ignis had to guess.

“Let me know if the headaches comes back” he said, a hand on the prince’s shoulder. He returned to the tent without speaking further but had the strange feeling that the prince was staring hard at his retreating back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So first of all I just wanted to say thanks for all the kudos and the comments! I hope everyone will like the next installment. I had hoped to post earlier but unfortunately I came down with a fever yesterday so I was somewhat delayed.

Ignis wasn’t entirely sure why none of them brought it up again, though any number of reasons seemed equally reasonable. While effective, one could not discount the intimate aspect of it, which did not fit their relationship. Not mentioning it made things less awkward. Bringing it up would also keep their companions in joke fodder of the likes Ignis hadn’t seen since Prompto was thrown off a chocobo into a dung pile. After their dramatic meeting with the Titan it also seemed like the visions and the accompanying headaches had gone, negating any further need to attend to them, they’d even gotten the Regalia back. It was good, really. He had identified a problem, analyzed it, devised a solution and executed it well enough that the problem ought to be gone permanently.

He should be pleased.

And yet, there was something. He thought he’d caught the prince regarding him intently through the rear-view mirror and instantly looking away when their eyes met on more than one occasion. He detected some subtle distancing in everyday interactions. The prince stopped calling him “Specs”. While he had never been overly thrilled with the nickname it had signaled a certain level of friendship and inclusion in the group. Perhaps the prince found the situation more awkward than he had anticipated. Frustratingly the only way to truly find out would be to ask the prince but he was quite convinced the antidote in such an instance would prove worse than the poison. It would be far better, he concluded, to act as if nothing was amiss. With time and the urgency of their mission things would eventually go back to normal.

It was a perfectly good plan.

They’d taken rooms for the night in Lestallum after a particularly long and wearying day. Prompto had been out like a light shortly after dinner and they had all retired shortly after that. He had expected, quite frankly, a magnificent night’s sleep. The kind where your head hits the pillow and the next moment it’s morning. Instead, he found himself suddenly awake and alert in the middle of the night with the pale light of the moon peeking through the window, and no apparent reason for him being awake. He fumbled after his glasses, trying to reconcile his sleep-groggy brain with his body insisting on high-alert. At first he heard nothing, but as he sat up and listened intently he soon became aware of an intermittent creaking, and softer than that, the muffled squish of feet on the plush hotel carpets out in the hallway. Someone was walking up and down the hallway, occasionally hitting a creaky floorboard. And he was pretty sure they paused right outside his door.

Still bleary with sleep he got up and, not quite thinking, opened the door. In any other situation he might’ve found the startled expression on Noctis’s face a bit amusing. Here, in the middle of the night, staring at the prince’s pale face it made his belly clench with sudden fear that something was amiss.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” Noctis moved to turn away but Ignis interrupted.

“Not at all. I was just about to go to the vending machine.” It was a lie, of course, but he was fairly certain there _was_ a vending machine down the hall at least. He beckoned the prince into his room. “Can I get you anything?”

Noctis shrugged, a familiar signal at this point which usually came down to ‘you pick’. Walking down the hallway gave Ignis some room to collect his thoughts and wake-up a little bit. He was quite certain that he had not merely caught the prince during some midnight wanderings. The prince had come to see him, but why?

It was only after staring vacantly at the blank reflective surface of the vending machine for a minuet as it clunked out his order that he realized he wasn’t wearing a shirt, just pajama bottoms. And that his hair stuck out at an odd angle. He tsked in frustration as he made one futile attempts to flatten it before returning with two cans of soda in hand.

The prince was, thankfully, still in Ignis’s room when he returned. More dressed than Ignis was in his usual jeans and t-shirt, too. He handed one of the cans over to Noctis and for a moment there was silence as they both took a sip. Noctis staring out into space and Ignis carefully considering the young royal before him, trying to figure out what was wrong, but gaining little.

“Not sleeping?” He asked after a moment.

“Yeah, I’m…” the prince trailed off awkwardly, even for him. Ignis had found that it was best to wait him out in moments like these. “…My head hurts.” He finally muttered.

“Oh.” That explained the awkwardness. “Forgive me, I hadn’t realized.”

He hadn’t, actually, and he was mentally kicking himself for it. With the titan taken care of the source of the headaches ought to have been gone. Had he been presumptuous? Had he missed obvious signs of Noctis’s distress? Or had the prince gotten better at hiding it? It was his job to be able to notice such signs regardless of how subtle they were. But that was neither here nor there at the current moment. The prince had brought this to his attention for a reason.

“Did you find the massage an effective treatment?” He asked, studiously neutral. The prince had obviously been embarrassed by the first encounter and he had no wish to elicit such a response again.

The prince nodded so Ignis beckoned for him to sit down in front of the short end of the bed – there was no other furniture in the room. Noctis’ hair was the same silky mess he recalled with an oddly intense clarity, but instead of citrus it smelled of the hotel’s signature scent – a heady combination of jasmine and sandalwood that seemed to drift right up his nose, making him unusually aware of his own skin. Where it started, where it ended, and where Noct started and ended. He worked small concentric circles through Noctis’ hair, gently scratching and pulling lightly when the prince hummed in quiet approval at the practice. His mouth felt dry and he had to swallow as his hands slid down to work on the prince’s neck and shoulders. Ignis wasn’t an expert but the prince didn’t seem as full of tension as the first time, he couldn’t detect any new muscle knots.

He could feel the prince make a quiet but sudden intake of breath as his fingers trailed down Noctis’s back on top of the cotton t-shirt. He stopped, uncertain for a moment. “My apologies, did I hurt you?” he murmured after a moment of silence.

“No, no,” the prince cleared his throat. “It’s fine. I should probably head back to bed though.” He got up and Ignis did the same. As Noctis turned to look at him Ignis reflected that he didn’t look particularly sleepy. His eyes were alert and bright, the pupils blown wide in the dim room.

“If this is helpful you need only ask.” Ignis offered, his voice still raspy with sleep. He cleared his throat but it didn’t seem to help.

“Thanks… I, uhm, I will.” It was dark but Ignis thought the prince looked a little flushed, he hoped he wasn’t coming down with anything. “Hey, you got something there.” Noct stood on tiptoe and with one hand on Ignis bare shoulder he carefully plucked something out of Ignis’ hair. Ignis stood stock-still, extremely aware of the warm hand on his shoulder, the brief gentle touch of fingers brushing through his hair and Noctis’s breath hot across his ear for just a hair of a second.  “Just a feather” Noctis waved the thing for emphasis. “Probably came from your pillow.”

The moment lasted barely half a second and yet it made him feel almost dizzy. He had to swallow hard before he spoke.

“Seems likely.” A pause as both he and Noct seemed to realize they were standing a bit too close and Noctis took a step backwards. “I hope you sleep better your majesty.”

“Thanks.” Noctis backed another couple of steps before turning and leaving, shutting the door with a gentle click behind him.

Ignis fell back down on the bed, glancing at the clock. An hour had passed. He pressed his hands against his face and felt the scent of jasmine, sandalwood, and Noct linger there. He felt wide awake and he scratched at his arms, trying to alleviate the electric feeling in his skin. A repetition of the treatment ought to have normalized the procedure, made it feel less awkward. Instead, Ignis felt increasingly strange about it and the prince’s behavior in ways he couldn’t name to his big frustration. When he finally drifted off to sleep, hours later, he dreamt of fields and fields of white jasmine with no end in sight.

 

*******

 

Ignis considered himself a relatively humble man. While he wouldn’t play to false humility he was not overly fond of the spotlight, nor did he enjoy boasting like Gladio would sometimes, almost gleefully, do. He did what was needed, preferably on the quiet, he didn’t overestimate or overstep his role. In the bigger scale of things, he hardly mattered and he found that rather reassuring.

Frankly, he had never expected that assumption to land him in such spectacular trouble.

Feeling a bit off-balance after his late-night encounter with Noct, Ignis had gone to the market to restock their supplies and hopefully clear his head. He’d arrived early enough that half the stalls weren’t even open yet, a slight chill and morning mist still lingering around the corners, making the sun dance through them in resplendent light before being dispelled by the oncoming heat of the day. He got a coffee at a small corner shop and wandered about, chatted with a few proprietors and compared wares. As the food stalls opened the smell of fresh vegetables soon mixed with the scent of spices and meat cooking. The sound of people talking and haggling and children playing filled the air.

Ignis could feel the tension practically ooze out of his body as he carefully examined the quality of a bunch of tomatoes, absent-mindedly calculating when he ought to use them and in what recipe.  It all happened very quickly. As he turned around to continue to the next stall someone bumped heavily into him, catching him off balance, he thought he heard a hurried “Sorry!” thrown over their shoulders as he stumbled backwards a step.

“Woah, hey now.” He didn’t catch the face of the man steadying his shoulder, but he felt the cold hard sting of a needle, setting all his senses on alert. He tore himself free and stumbled forward, losing himself in the crowd. But he could already feel the cloying effects of whatever drug they’d dosed him with. An overpowering feeling of nausea and vertigo made him stumble and almost fall, as if the ground beneath his feet were roiling. He wouldn’t make it back to the hotel in this state. Instead he fumbled for his phone as he stumbled forward and hit speed dial, ignoring the dirty looks he got as he blundered into people. He felt like he was walking through a tunnel.

“Hurry up Ignis, we’re heading out soon.”

“Noct,” His voice sounded odd even to his own ears. Dark and slurry like syrup. He could almost feel Noctis’s sudden attention and worry.

“Ignis what’s wrong? Where are you?”

“Market, I-“ Someone grabbed his shoulder from behind, locking arms with him.

“Woah there, sir, easy now,” Same person who’d drugged him, he was sure of it. Someone else locked arms with him on his other side, taking the phone. He tried resisting wherever he was being led but his legs wouldn’t cooperate properly, the market seemed dark, all sounds oddly distant and distorted.

“I wouldn’t worry too much about your advisor your highness.” A woman’s voice, talking in his phone? Speaking to Noct. A bubble of hot anger struggled to break the surface of the darkening sludge around him. “Sit tight for more instructions.”

He yanked hard to the side, trying to pry loose and something hard capped him across the ear, sending an explosion of sparks across his vision. And then, the darkness covered everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CLIFFHANGER! #Sorrynotsorry
> 
> Hope you enjoyed that, please let me know what you think in the comments!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just have to say that I am so blown away by all of your likes and your comments, it really makes my day. Hopefully you'll enjoy this chapter as much as the previous ones! I'll try and update the tags as I go along with the relevant information as well.

It felt like the inside of his mouth was covered in sticky glue, the sensation was quickly followed by a pounding in his head and a stubborn stiff pain in his neck as he tried to raise his head from his shoulder, where it had apparently rested long enough for him to develop a solid crick in his neck. He swallowed and was rewarded with a couching fit that only served to make the pounding in his head worse.

“Looks like you’re waking up.”

Ignis blinked several times to tune the world back into focus and sat up straighter. Someone had tied his hands to the armrests. The room was small and nondescript, no windows, some bookcases, a desk behind him, the walls a grayish green he associated with empire military bases. An observation that did not bode well for him, incidentally. Opposite him in a lounge chair sat what he assumed was the woman who’d taken his phone from him, legs casually crossed and with a binder in her lap. With soft waves of red hair failing freely about her shoulders he might’ve mistaken her for a civilian, business woman of some sort, rather than an Imperial official, but her clothes gave her away. It was subtle but the thin gray wool of the suit she wore was empire gray, as was the red lining and red detailing along the cuffs. Not a uniform, more of a homage. He doubted she was military per se, which made her all the more dangerous.

“And you are?” Even his voice sounded thick and phlegmatic.

““I am Madeleine Doler Auctor, your host.” She responded conversationally, as if she had not a short while ago personally assisted in his kidnapping and as if he was not tied to a chair in what was probably the middle of a high security military compound. How delightfully psychopathic.

“And you are Ignis, formerly Stupeo, Scientia.” She enunciated every word precisely, as if feeling each of them out carefully, looking down into the binder in front of her before meeting his eyes and smiling. “It’s quite an interesting career you’ve built for yourself. One of the youngest applicants ever to pass the entry exams to the Lucian Academy – and one of the highest testing scores.” She got up, tapping a pencil thoughtfully against her lip as she made a slow stroll around his chair. “Hand-picked for royal service only five years later you ended up serving as the crown prince’s primary advisor and confidant while completing higher education – with honors, including a master’s degree in modern military science and strategy.” She completed her circle finally standing in front of him. “And I am also told you’re an accomplished cook,” she finished with a smile, “Where do you find the time, Mr. Scientia?”

Ignis didn’t respond. The woman merely smiled, and resumed her stroll. Ignis tried to force his brain into a more analytical mode. The juxtaposition of the kidnapping and his current predicament with the businesslike woman in front of him was hard to reconcile. He had no doubt they sought to extract some advantage from the prince by holding him, perhaps luring him into a trap, but they wanted something more, they wanted his cooperation. But for what?

“Your aptitude and talent ought to have netted you a career in the military, or perhaps more likely the SRS. Yet despite your high qualifications you spend a lot of time… personally looking after the prince? Cooking his meals, taking his notes, running his errands. That strikes me as a waste of an extraordinary talent. Wouldn’t you agree, Mr. Scientia?”

Her hand landed lightly on his shoulder as his turned just slightly to hear her, his left ear still felt the blow it had taken, but he didn’t say anything.

“The empire has a tolerant view of outside talent and past connections, and rich opportunity for advancement…” She sat down again in her chair “…for those who can bring something valuable to the table.”

The edge of Ignis’ lip quirked in the hint of a smile. “Might I have some water?” he asked. As she smiled back he hoped he might find a way out of his predicament yet.

 

*******

Ignis gasped painfully for air as the guard pulled his head out of the ice water. His lungs burned with the cold and oxygen deprivation, his entire body shaking in pain. Doubled over, he leaned his head against the rim of the tub, chest heaving. Madeleine caught hold of his hair and bent him back upwards both painfully and strangely gentle at the same time.

“I’m disappointed, Mr. Scientia. A man of your qualities surely could see the necessity and benefit of your own cooperation.”

“I’m quite certain I was cooperating.” Ignis gasped.

“If this partnership is going to work you are going to have to be honest with me Mr. Scientia. No more lies.”

“If I lied,” And he still wasn’t admitting he had, maybe he could salvage this, “what gave me away?”

“Ah, looking to improve your performance? It has been quite impressive so far. You’re a curious man, Mr. Scientia so let me propose a trade.” She let go of his head. He tried to keep himself from shivering, he was freezing already, as she rounded the tub and appeared in his field of vision. “Tell me why the prince was not in the capital that day, and I’ll tell you where you slipped up.”

 

_We had no way of knowing. That’s what he’d tell him. He stood outside the doors to the prince’s room for at least a full minuet, paper in hand, bracing himself, before walking in. He wasn’t a man to indulge in flights of fantasy but he felt as if he could feel the presence of the king standing just behind him. His hand on his shoulder._

_Gladio would’ve raged, would’ve questioned the decision. He would’ve wanted to stay and fight. Even if he had accepted the need for it in the end he wasn’t the kind of person who could keep secrets. And someone had to know, had to make sure everything was in order, that their departure wasn’t delayed. That no one got the bright idea to return to pick up a forgotten game, or sword or other tidbit._

_It had to be Ignis._

_“Keep him safe for me.”_

_His duty to his king demanded that he go, his duty to his prince required that he asked._

_“And there is no other way, Your Majesty?”_

_The King smiled, kindly. Ignis needed no other answer. He bowed and took his leave._

He coughed violently as his head emerged from the water again, the fits racking his body.

“Well, Mr. Scientia?” She was standing close, she had a ruby ring on her right hand, leaning against the tub ever so lightly. “Have you considered our little trade? Tell me how they got the prince out early, and I’ll tell you which lie I caught you in.”

“Oh, I have thought about it” He responded, chest heaving painfully. He felt like he’d been sprinting at break neck speed for hours. His lungs working painfully hard to process the cold air. “I won’t be needing it, I already know the answer.”

“Is that a fact?”

“Yes.” He looked up at her, blue eyes trained on his face. No smile, so he smiled for her. “I didn’t slip up. You were always going to torture me.”

As she struck him hard across the face he could feel hot blood trickling down his temple, the ring no doubt. In retrospect a foolish decision to antagonize her. As his head went under again he did not regret it.

 

*******

They’d stopped momentarily, he wasn’t sure why, he’d lost track of time hours ago. Not that he’d know what time it was when he’d woken up in the first place. It could’ve been a mere 24 hours, or several days already. At first he’d bit back his own screams but as time wore on and they wore on it came hoarse and ragged, tears and sweat crusted his face with salt. His chest was a carpet of dull, swollen pain after countless beatings and his arms burned like acid from being bound from the ceiling for hours, his feet only just barely touching the floor.

Left with no other coping technique he had retreated into his mind clinging to the stubborn delusional belief that every beating, every electrocution, every lash – would be the last one.

There was a sound to the left of him and he turned towards it, the door opening. He squinted against the light where he could make out two figures silhouetted against the bright doorway.

“You’re an impressive man, Mr. Scientia.” Madeleine, of course. He blinked a few times to get used to the light, the other person looked to be a doctor. “Unfortunately, I believe we’ve run of time to test how far your endurance truly runs.”

She stepped out of his line of sight, he could hear a switch click, and then his bonds released from the ceiling, sending him to the floor in a crumpled heap. He heard the clack of her heels on the floor as he struggled to get up on his feet.

“I had hoped to avoid using this as the side-effects are quite unpredictable,” She took hold of his right arm and twisted it up behind his back hard, forcing him straight and still. “But it’s efficacy in getting people to talk is undeniable. Doctor, if you would administer the truth serum.”

Ignis tried futilely to pull free as the other man took a steady grip of his left arm to little avail, readying the syringe. It entered into his arm, hard and cold, making him snarl in fruitless anger.

And then, the wall exploded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANOTHER CLIFFHANGER.
> 
> I'm terrible, I know. 
> 
> If you liked it, please let me know in the comments!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Work's been so crazy this week I wasn't sure I was going to get a chapter out tonight, very happy I did!

He woke up moments later, coughing from the dust in the air, his ears ringing. Bits of concrete and plaster fell around him as he stumbled to his feet. The doctor and Madeleine still lay on the floor where they’d fallen. He couldn’t tell if they were unconscious or dead and he didn’t particularly care to find out.

Grimacing he pulled the syringe gingerly from his arm and looked at it. It looked half-full to him but he couldn’t be sure, how much had been in it at the start? There was no time to find out either, he had to get out of there before the guards came to find out what the fuss was about. He rummaged briefly through both of their pockets and to his relief found a potion in the doctor’s coat which he quickly downed, eliminating the worst cobwebs from his mind and taking the edge of the pain.

The explosion had come from the outside, but the resulting rubble made it impossible to exit that way. Instead he peeked out of the door and after ensuring it was empty he snuck down the hallway in search of an exit.

He’d managed to go down a couple of floors to what he believed was the bottom floor without really encountering anyone, something that made him both grateful and suspicious. He wasn’t really in shape to fight anyone, yet all the same time the base couldn’t just be empty, it made no sense. Was there something else drawing their attention? And if so, would it continue to be of benefit to him?

The sudden noise of an electric sliding door opening beyond the turn and the sound of multiple people in heavy boots coming down the hall made him dive into the first open door he could find. He held his breath as they passed by and then had to sit down for a moment to collect himself. The surge of adrenaline that had carried him through the first part of his escape was waning fast and he was struggling to find a second wind to carry him the rest of the way. He looked around the room he had hidden in, it looked like something of a cross between a lab and a workshop. On a workbench he saw pieces he recognized as Magitek armour, thankfully not active. Against one wall hung what looked like big empty birdcages, large enough to fit a man, and on the other wall big glass tubes of corresponding size that looked like a counterpart of sorts to the bird cages. He couldn’t discern their exact use, but they made him queasy just looking at them.

Walking further into the workspace (and mindful of the door) he found a small notebook on one of the tables, forgotten by a researcher by the looks of it. He flicked through it briefly, trying to get a sense of what experiments they had been doing in here. He frowned, gazing at a quick sketch of an MT with large bird wings. They’d tried making flying MT’s? He flipped forward, it seemed they’d had difficulties. _It seems in order to make a living being part of the MT it requires a human spark. Mere beasts does not interest the host._ He read. Human spark? The host? It didn’t make sense, and he didn’t have time to figure it out. He pocketed the notebook and tugged at the collar of his tattered shirt. He was starting to feel hot and a bit queasy. He needed to get out of there quickly.

 

 

He was so close. He’d managed to make his way through the floor to the front of the building and the entrance, a wide open space with a reception area, potted plants and plenty of seats and literally no cover. He’d hidden behind a corner desk for several minutes assessing the situation and deliberating on the next course of action, did he dare make his way across the room, open from all angles, to the exit? And what would he find once on the outside? He’d heard several more booms like thunder, or explosions as he made his way through the building, indicating some kind of disruption on the outside of unpredictable nature. He had to find safe shelter soon, too. It was getting difficult to think and little black spots danced alarmingly across his vision.

No one had come through in the last five min he’d been sitting there, deliberating. It suddenly struck him as ridiculous. He’d gotten this far, hadn’t he? He actually smiled to himself, feeling suddenly quite confident that freedom was within reach. He just had to cross a teeny-tiny area of open space, practically nothing. Some part of him noted that he was feeling way too hot, almost like a furnace, but what better reason to get outside into the cool air? Getting up and running half-crouched across the room he could almost smell freedom when a voice called out from behind.

“Where do you think you’re going? Halt!” He half turned towards the voice, only narrowly dodging a bullet as a man came around the other corner with half a company of MT’s in tow. Ignis threw himself to the ground as they charged at him. Parrying a downward blow with his arm he laughed at the exhilaration. His arm should’ve been hurting but he didn’t feel a thing. Something loud went off behind him, exploding the glass front to the reception sending shards of glass everywhere alongside screeching MT’s. Couching and rolling to his feet one of them suddenly grabbed him by the front, lifting him into the air. He grabbed its arms struggling to get free and then something familiar and silvery streaked through the air, swift and merciless and the unit exploded right under him. Ignis crashed to the floor with a gasp.

“Ignis!” That voice was familiar, and so were the hands that turned him over and the uncharacteristically concerned expression on Noctis’s face. “Are you okay?”

“Your Majesty.” Ignis smiled, feeling a warm, happy feeling suffusing him alongside the relief. Noctis still looked worried though. The light seemed incredibly bright, too.

“Your eyes look… funny” Noctis waved Gladio closer. “Gladio, look at his eyes, what’s wrong with him?”

“Damn, it’s all pupil, usually only see that on junkies.”

The way they talked about him should’ve concerned him but instead he just felt light and warm as Noctis turned back to him and helped him on his feet.

“What happened to you?” He asked warily, helping Ignis to his feet, his eyes taking in Ignis’s tattered state, his shirt hanging half of off him missing half of its buttons, the bruises, specks of dried blood and dust.

“Torture, well, first they offered me a job, I turned it down, but mostly torture I would say. They have research labs here that try to make birds. ” Some part of him felt he should’ve been concerned about how flippant he was being, but it seemed very distant and rather unimportant at the moment. After so long in pain he felt great. He smiled. “I rather missed you all.”

“Yeah, they definitely gave him something,” Prompto said, looking like he was both amused and frightened.

“Let’s get him out of here, Gladio, can you take point?”

“I think I lost my daggers, well, I think Madeleine took them. Lovely woman apart from the bit with the beatings.”

“Uh, yeah” Gladio gave him one last stare before leading the way, Prompto and Noctis each taking one of his arms and leading him outside. The dark should’ve worried him, especially the part where they would need to make their escape in it, but all he could think of was how beautiful the constellations were. Constellations were hard to see behind Insomnia’s protective magical shield. He freed his arm from Prompto’s grip to point them out.

“That’s Shiva, and that’s the tide-mother and-“

“We’ve got company!” Gladio’s warning was swiftly followed by a boom as his large broadsword tore into the troop of MT’s that had turned up to impede their escape.

“Prompto, keep Ignis out of danger!” Noctis shouted as he warped on top of the enemy. Ignis really ought to have been concerned, especially about the two enormous MA’s spraying bullets everywhere. Instead his eyes were drawn to Noctis, whizzing about the battlefield, almost impossible to pin down. Despite how capable he was Ignis usually stuck close to him in battle, fearful of what might happen given the prince’s aggressive battle style, but that rarely gave him room to observe the prince as he did now, busy as he usually was looking out for danger. Despite the aggressive nature of how he fought and the jerky nature of phasing there was something graceful to how he moved, especially as he phased up high into the air, lingering for a deceptively long moment in mid-air before falling down upon his enemies like a bolt of destruction.

If it hadn’t been for Promto he probably would’ve had his head taken off by flying debris as the MA’s exploded, throwing both of them to the ground as scrap metal rained down on them.

“We’re clear, let’s move!”

The world had blurred into a confusing miasma of darks and lights as he half-ran, half stumbled towards their exit, someone firmly leading him by the hand. The warm and cozy blanket that had enveloped him moments before was fading fast, replaced with exhaustion and a nervous, jittery chattiness.  As they finally reached the car Ignis leaned heavily on it, his heart hammering, lungs burning and thoughts incoherently skipping from one topic to the other. Someone guided him into the backseat of the Regalia where his head flopped backwards in pure exhaustion.

“The roads are perilous at night,” he muttered as the Regalia sped up. Noct must be driving. “I remember when you got your license. You were very pleased. Shame you couldn’t use it for so long”

“Why’s that?” Prompto piped up.

“Grounded for sneaking out I believe. Not the worst one though.”

“Oh yeah, which one was that?” Gladio, sounded like he was trying to keep himself distracted.

“Hmm, tried to sneak out to a club when you were 16, caught you, had to tag along.” Ignis smiled, it was funny in retrospect. “Managed to talk both of us in, turned out to be a gay club.”

Prompto laughed, “no way! How?”

_Flashing lights from the club, endless line of young people preening and peeping to see when they’d get in. Noct looking both sullen and nervous all of a sudden. Only sixteen. How had he gotten roped into this? Why had he promised to help? He leaned against the wall next to the entrance and fished a cigarette out of his pocket, Noct hoovering close by. Doorman glancing at him from the corner of his eye, appraising._

_“Need a light?”_

“Had to date the doorman. Was pretty nice actually.”

“That sounds nothing like you Ignis.” Prompto sounded skeptical.

“Wasn’t me.” Well, it was him, not the regular him. He frowned, his skittering mind didn’t want to focus, but he could explain this he was sure, if he tried. “I was being who I needed-“

“Hey,” that was Noct, he sounded sharper than usual, angry. Ignis ought to open his eyes and see why, he really ought to. “Ignis, what’s your favourite meal?”

_The prince hated vegetables. All of them, except for one dish he could stand. If Ignis could get it just right. Only the juiciest tomatoes would do. He wanted to make it more often, make sure the prince got all the nutrients he needed but he worried he’d get sick of it._

“Oh! Breaded cutlet with tomatoes, but only if you can get ripe tomatoes otherwise…” he lost track of time as they rode and Noctis asked him about how to make different dishes, how to get a soufflé to rise and why Noctis should try caern carrot cake. As the serum slowly wore off the pain and exhaustion returned. When they finally stopped he’d fallen into a shallow slumber, shivering despite the heat in the car.

The others had gotten out of the car, he should get out too he thought dimly when someone opened the door on his side and gently lifted him out.

“I’m quite capable of walking.” He muttered, slurred really, as his head landed on Gladio’s shoulder.

“I’m sure you are,” Gladio murmured. “Gods, you really are all limbs, aren’t you Iggy?”

“Hmm,” Ignis made a valiant attempt to open his eyes but they were just so heavy as Gladio walked into a building and up some stairs, gently setting him down on a bed.

“I gotta go deal with the car.” That was Gladio again.

“I’ll watch him.” Nocis’s voice, quiet, tired.

Noctis gently removed the tattered remains of his shirt. Ignis could feel his fingers gently ghosting across his chest and he winced.

“They really went at you hard,” Notics said, a hint of shock and anger in his voice.

“I’ll be fine your majesty,” Ignis murmured as Noct helped get his shoes off. The bed was wonderfully soft. He heard a woosh and then a blanket landed gently on top of him. There was the scraping of a chair as Noctis sat down next to the head of the bed. A pause and then a hand combed gently through his tussled hair, scratching at his scalp.

Ignis hummed sleepily “’s nice.”

“Well I kinda liked it as it turns out, thought I should return the favour” Noctis sounded like he was halfway between relief and worry.

“You have nice hair” Ignis murmured, “silky.”

“Oh?” Noctis sounded amused.

“Mm, smells like citrus. Nice.” His head felt good, if not the rest of his body, he smiled.

Neither of them said anything for a while, Ignis close to sleep and Noctis caught in contemplation.

“You… really scared me, y’know.” Noctis finally said. His voice sounded far-away. “I didn’t know losing you would feel so terrifying and lately I’ve been…” he trailed off.

Ignis felt like he should respond somehow, but he was so tired and the hand in his hair felt so good.

He felt Noctis shift beside him leaning closer, and then the prince’s warm lips pressed gently against his own, sending a surprising shower of sparks down his spine.

It was over as quickly as it started. He heard Noctis draw a breath as if shocked at what he’d just done, and the chair scraping as he stood up suddenly.

“Please don’t remember this in the morning” he whispered, panicked. Ignis should say something, reassure him, but the world was spinning deeply into darkness and his arms were so heavy, he couldn’t move, couldn’t open his eyes. The last thing he remembered hearing was the soft click of the door as Noctis left, then sleep claimed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See? I can be nice! ;) Let me know what you think in the comments!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos and comments everyone! Hope you'll enjoy this one, too.

When he woke up again it was evening and he couldn’t remember how he’d gotten into bed. He rubbed his eyes with his right hand, clumsy from sleep and winced hard as a sharp pain shot through his left arm and then ebbing away to a dull, bodily ache. He fumbled at the night stand for his glasses, but couldn’t find them. He always put his glasses in the same spot. Sitting up made him grimace in pain, but also helped wake him up a little. He was still wearing his trousers, but his shirt was gone. An image, an impression really, flickered across his mind. A backhanded slap casually impacting his face. His glasses going flying. He touched his lip and found it swollen and split like he expected.

“You’re awake.” His head snapped to the side at the sound, his heart suddenly thudding hard in his chest. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” It was just Gladio. Some part of him had been expecting Noctis but he couldn’t put his finger on why.

“Do you remember what happened?” Gladio continued when Ignis didn’t respond.

“I…” His voice sounded like half a bucket of gravel. He should remember but it was like looking at a half finished puzzle in his mind, some parts connected and put together, others lying in heaps, but nothing connecting it all into the bigger picture. He had to find a corner. “I went to the market.” Gladio handed him a glass of water and he took a sip. His throat hurt. “I was… abducted.” Disbelief did not adequately convey his tone of voice. It was one of the most preposterous things he had ever said and would ever say, he was quite certain.

“Yeah, we figured they doped you up on something. You were pretty fucked up when we got to you.”

He rubbed his face, feeling a pretty impressive stubble, “… truth serum, I think?” The image of a black silhouette against a bright background, a doorway, flashed by. He could figure this out, he just needed to be able to think. “Most serums developed today has various side-effects. Memory loss is common.” As was blathering about anything that came to mind. He suppressed  a groan, if only because his tortured throat couldn’t take it. “Did I say anything untoward?”

“Nah, nothing serious.” Gladio commented off-handedly.

Well, that was a relief Ignis thought, taking another sip of water.

“That story about you sneaking Noct into a gay club was pretty funny though.” Gladio continued innocently, making Ignis choke and cough for at least a solid minuet. So much for sparing his throat.

Gladio chuckled, “Sorry, sorry, that was bad of me. Did you really?”

“I don’t remember exactly what I said,” Ignis responded as tartly as one could manage while one’s throat felt like it’d been mangled by a cheese grater, “but yes, essentially.”

“Damn, I owe Prompto twenty now.”

“A burden on your conscience, I’m sure.”

“And now I know you’re back with us. How’s the arm?”

Ignis looked down at his left arm, which had turned into an impressively swollen array of blues, purples and fading yellows. _An MT’s soulless eyes way to close to his own, an overhead strike. Searing pain through his arm and shoulder as he parried._ “I believe I blocked an incoming blow from an MT.” He squeezed his fist experimentally and grimaced as pain shot through it. “I cannot say I recommend it.”

Gladio got up and sat on the edge of the bed, carefully feeling out the bones in his forearm.

“What did they want?” Gladio asked, examining his arm for injury.

“They wanted to know why the prince wasn’t in the city when they attacked.”

“And they thought you had something to do with it?”

“I assume as much.”

“Well, did you?”

Ignis arched a questioning eyebrow at Gladio who threw up his hands in a “I’m only asking” sort of gesture.

“Look,” Gladio continued, carefully positioning his arm and tying it securely with a sling, “I’m just saying there was some weirdness to that whole thing. We left a week early, no one was at the farewell ceremony. There barely even was a ceremony just you, me, Prompto and Noct in that big-ass room with the king-“

“I was just as confounded by the change in plans as you were if you recall,” Ignis interjected quietly. It ought to have disturbed him how easily the lie came, but it didn’t. It just was.

“Yeah, well, something was up and when this is all over I’m going to find out what.” Gladio muttered as he got up.

“Gladio?” The other man stopped in the door opening. “Was the prince in here before?” He wasn’t sure why he was asking, except that something niggled at the back of his mind.

“Yeah, I kicked him out to get some rest after a couple of hours. I’ll let them know you’re awake?”

Ignis waved him off with his non-injured hand, “certainly.”

As the door closed behind the other man Ignis attempted to gather his thoughts and remember. Market, tomatoes, spices in the air, sun on his face. _Ignis what’s wrong? Where are you?_ He squeezed the bridge of his nose. It got blurry after that. Scattered. His train of thought was interrupted by Prompto’s excited chattering well before they even opened the door. The smell of miso soup made his stomach rumble loudly and a hunger so intense as to almost make him nauseous washed over him. He barely heard a word as Prompto excitedly described the events leading up to his rescue – until he heard Prompto mention the Titan.

“You summoned the Titan?” He asked, the last piece of sushi hoovering halfway to his mouth. Noctis shrugged which Ignis took for a yes.

“We weren’t sure how to get in, I mean, usually you make the plans Iggy-“ Prompto continued unabated, “-all sneaky like but we were in a hurry so we-“

“You launched a frontal assault on an imperial outpost.” Ignis supplied the ending weakly. That explained the exploding wall at least. Prompto chuckled bashfully, Ignis sighed. “I surmised as much. Prompto?”

“Yeah?”

“I have a spare pair of glasses in the glove compartment. Would you mind getting them for me?”

“I’ll get you something to drink” Gladio rose to and followed Prompto out the door, leaving Ignis and the prince in the small room. Ignis had the distinct impression Noctis was avoiding looking at him.

 “Did you plan on summoning the Titan?” Ignis finally asked.

“He’s a god,” Noctis shrugged. “He’s not exactly at my beck and call. He comes when he wants to.”

“So in other words you drove up to one of the most well-fortified imperial bases in the region and hoped for the best.” Ignis summarized dryly.

“Hey, it worked, didn’t it?” Noctis responded, irritated. Arms crossed, staring determinedly at the far corner. “Were we supposed to leave you there?”

Some part him wanted to say yes. The prudent thing would’ve been to not come for him, to keep the prince out of harm’s way. But he was grateful, and the enormity of the undertaking was only just starting to sink in.

“No, I suppose not.” He conceded, as gently as he could. “I am grateful your majesty.”

Noctis rolled his eyes. “No need to go all formal on me, Specs.” Noctis walked over and plopped down on the side of Ignis’s bed. A small bag in his hand made a soft clinking noise as he fished out a potion bottle.

“Do you remember what happened?” He asked, his eyes focused on carefully opening the bottle.

Ignis hesitated. He remembered quite enough, even if some of it felt confused and haphazard. He didn’t particularly care to relive it, much less reveal the messy details to Noctis. He probably felt bad enough already. Ignis shook his head, letting Noctis gently maneuver his injured arm “I’m afraid it’s all rather blurry.” He grimaced as Noctis poured potion all over his arm. Healing potions were the most effective if taken immediately upon injury. Effectiveness decreased proportionally against time and uncomfortable tingling, it seemed, increased instead.  

“Ignis-“ Noct began, sounding frustrated.

“Noct, the details hardly matter-“

“ _I thought you were dead._ ” Noct cut him off with a choked up whisper, staring hard at the bag he clutched in his hands. “When we found you I… I saw you fall.”

_His body hitting the ground with a thump, almost knocking the wind out of him, a foreign chemical elation in his vein masking the pain and yet getting a full breath into his lungs seemed so hard. His head spinning, trying to regain equilibrium and figure out what was up and down and then,_

_“Ignis!”_

_Warm hands pulling him round, grounding him and big, blue, beautiful eyes filling his entire vision sending his heart racing._

_“Are you okay?”_

“I remember.” Ignis conceded cautiously, tamping down on the vivid memory. A side effect of the drugs no doubt.

“And you looked like a fucking mess-“

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Ignis interjected dryly, but relented when the joke failed to elicit a smile from the dejected young prince beside his bed. “Noct,” he continued gently, putting his hand on his shoulder. When Noct did not look up Ignis pushed the strands of his messy hair behinds his ear to see the prince more clearly. His voice still raspy, but getting better with use, “It’s not your fault.”

“You’d more convincing without a split lip.” Noct muttered, finally looking up.

Ignis chuckled, and regretted it a little when his throat hurt, “Yes, well, needs must.”

“I want to know.” Noctis insisted. He took a deep breath, evidently steeling himself. “Everything you remember, what… whatever it is.”

Ignis sighed and leaned back against the headboard. If Noct wanted to know, Ignis had a duty to tell him. For all that Ignis still thought of him as – and called him – prince, he was king now. He began at the market, that part was relatively clear. He told him about Madeleine and the start of the interrogation, trying his best to skip lightly over the details of how things when south, though judging by how Noctis clenched his hands into fists he wasn’t sure he succeeded very well. It was a bit patchy anyway, but it got blurry fast after the wall exploded.

“What if you work backwards?” Noctis insisted, rummaging through the bag for another bottle. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Ignis tried to think back. Part of the difficulty was that the bits and pieces he did remember weren’t necessarily in order. He frowned, concentrating. “Night skies?” He murmured uncertainly, concentrating. He could tell from the corner of his eye Noctis was watching him intently, frozen with his hand in the bag. “It was dark when we got here I believe. I…”

He remembered strong arms, which felt a bit more embarrassing than he wanted to admit. He rubbed his temple with one hand. “Did Gladio… carry me up here?”

Noctis breathed out a big sigh, “Yeah, you were pretty out of it.”

“I’m certain I’ll be reminded of this at every opportune moment in the future” Ignis muttered dryly. “I am quite capable of doing this myself,” he added as Noctis gently pressed on his shoulder to get him to lie back down. Noctis gave him a flat look which Ignis had come to associate with his most mulishly stubborn tendencies. “Very well, Your Majesty.” He conceded with just a hint of a huffy, long-suffering sigh.

“Do you remember anything else? From when we got here?”

Ignis frowned at the ceiling, thinking. He had expected to find Noctis in the room when he woke up but couldn’t quite put his finger on why. “Well-“ he cut himself short with a gasp as the cold potion hit his chest, sending shivering tingles and goosebumps on the verge of pain across his body.  

“Sorry, that’s a hi-potion, should’ve mentioned.” Noctis muttered, blushing a little.

“It’s quite all right, just colder than expected.” Ignis said, rubbing his chest. It did seem like the pain was lessened, which was good. Something about the tingling tugged at his memory, but he couldn’t quite grasp it. “Noct?”

“Yeah?”

“Were you in here last night?”

Noctis sat very still, concentrating on tying the bag shut again. “… yeah. I helped Gladio. What, uhm, what do you remember?”

“I…” Ignis slowly sat back up again, thinking. It was like trying to catch sand between his fingers. The harder he tried, the more it slipped away. Half-remembered feelings that would not connect to images or thoughts. Warmth, surprise…. Longing? It didn’t make sense. He shook his head finally, pulling a hand through his messy hair. “I can’t remember. My apologies, Noct. Did we talk about something important?” He looked searchingly at Noctis’s face, trying to figure out what he was thinking.

Noctis smiled lightly as he got up, and clapped Ignis gently on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, Specs. I’m gonna go see what’s holding Prompto up.”

The door clicked shut quietly, leaving Ignis to think over their conversation. Despite his smile Ignis couldn’t get over the feeling that Noctis had sounded a bit… Disappointed? Relieved? He couldn’t make sense of it. Perhaps he had said something embarrassing or improper and Noctis was trying to spare his feelings. Ignis laid back down again. He should ask Gladio when he returned. If he had embarrassed the prince, he wanted to apologize. He yawned. The talking and the healing was more exhausting than he had anticipated. By the time Prompto and Gladio returned he had fallen back asleep. He dreamt of white jasmine fields and soft, silky petals brushing lightly against his lips. But when he reached out to grasp them they disappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure why but this chapter was really hard to write. Please let me know what you think in the comments!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Never imagined so many people would like this story. Y'all are amazing. Here's another update for ya! ^_^

It was another three days before they were on the road again. Ignis had woken up the next morning burning up with fever and a racking cough that he was sure he could thank Madeleine and hours of being dunked in ice water for. He thought he woke up in the middle of the night once and found Noctis asleep on a chair next to his bed, but by next morning the memory felt so hazy he wasn’t sure if he’d dreamt it or not, and something kept him from asking about it. His memories of the events of the past few days slowly coalesced into some semblance of order, though there seemed to be giant holes between them. Earlier was easier. He remembered quite clearly speaking to Madeleine when he woke up, but not how he got the unsettling notebook in his back pocket. _Ignis what’s wrong? Where are you?_ Prompto teased him about his five day stubble and insisted he should try and grow a beard. When Noct voiced an amused agreement Ignis found himself actually considering the idea before catching himself and dismissing it outright. The others were still worried about him, he could tell, and not only because he still wore the sling (and would for a couple more days probably). Despite his usual reservations about letting Noctis drive he found himself napping a lot in the backseat. The three of them teamed up against Ignis to steal his cooking duties which was nice, apart from the food, really.

It was the morning of the third day after they’d gotten on the road again on their way towards another ancient tomb. He was still wearing the sling, but confident he’d be able to take it off in a day at the most and he was getting tired of eating cup noodles for breakfast. Necessary counter-measures had to be taken. Ignis had woken at his customary early hour and with some minor wiggling gotten into jeans and a t-shirt. He looked forward to getting out of the sling just as much for regaining mobility as he did to be able to dress properly again. He never liked how t-shirts tended to cling. Dress shirts were much more his speed.

It was shaping up to a beautiful day with barely a cloud on the horizon and the sun painting the sky in warm hues of orange and pink. Gladio hadn’t been in the tent when Ignis got up and had probably gone on his usual morning run, he’d be happy to find breakfast waiting for him when he got back, which made Ignis smile a little. Gladio had a palate that was easy to please, making his job as a chef rather simple. Noctis was more of a challenge, and with that in mind Ignis set about preparing the day’s breakfast. He’d missed cooking a lot and found himself humming to himself as he sliced bread (with some difficulty) and getting the pans out. Ignis did not mind the company of others, but he craved time alone with his own thoughts. Cooking, but especially breakfast, provided some much needed respite and space for reflection, which was in short supply on the road. The sling could be worked around but it required some finagling and concentration. In regular circumstances he probably would’ve noticed, if he hadn’t been half-expecting to hear Gladio coming back at any moment.  

“Oh my, that does smell delicious doesn’t it?”

Ignis froze mid-stir at the familiar voice. It took a substantial effort of will not to whip around to face the unexpected intrusion. He set the spatula down and turned around, calmly.

“Chancellor, to what do we owe the pleasure?”

Ignis had disliked the red-haired man and his easy smile from the moment he had met him, nagged by the unhelpful feeling that he recognized him from somewhere. Finding out that he was Ardyn Izumia, the elusive, publicity-shy chancellor of the empire had not improved matters.

“Oh I merely wanted to stop by and offer my apologies. I hear your latest sojourn with the empire turned into a bit of a… bumpy ride?” Ardyn’s hand brushed ever so lightly across Ignis’s injured arm. With the camping stove and table directly behind him Ignis was boxed in, something he was certain Ardyn was perfectly aware of. “The empire can get… over-zealous once it has its heart set on something.” Ardyn continued with a smile from underneath his eyelashes. “And what _would_ the prince do without you? It seems you take care of everything from cooking to cleaning to planning and strategizing. A talent like yours would surely be _missed_ if you were to-“

“Hey!” Ignis sensed more than saw Noctis emerge from the tent together with Prompto from the corner of his eye. He sounded angry. “What’s going on here?”

“Ah, my prince how _lovely_ to see you!” Ardyn stepped back ever so slightly, affecting a deep bow. Behind him Ignis could see Gladio returning to camp, making a straight beeline for where he’d left his sword. “You must be so relieved to have your advisor back, good help is _so hard_ to come by.” Ardyn smiled at Noctis and Ignis had to tamp down a spike of hot anger. _Focus. Observe_. “Especially having lost so many in the Crown city already.”

“Is there a problem here?” Gladio interjected, casually hefting his sword onto his shoulder and coming to stand beside Prompto and Noctis.

“Not at all! Merely commiserating on the recent past. I _do hope_ you’re being careful out there. The roads are treacherous these days. There is a blockade 2 miles ahead. If you are continuing towards the tomb might I suggest an… alternative route?”

“Such as?” Noctis asked, irritated.

“The Foedus Caverns would take you past the blockade.” Ardyn offered, looking for all the world as if butter would not melt on his tounge.

 “We’d have to leave the car…” Prompto trailed off, sounding hesitant.

“Is that so? How unfortunate. Well, sometimes sacrifices have to be made. The choice is yours.” Ardyn swept his hat off in another bow and looked to be ready to leave as he turned away from the prince, his eyes met Ignis’s, who felt a chill creep down his back.

“Oh that reminds me,” Ardyn said quietly, smiling “I have a gift for you. Something I picked up in the Crown City.” Ardyn moved far quicker than Ignis had been prepared to anticipate, taking hold of Ignis’s right hand and pressing something small and round into his palm. Ignis didn’t dare look away from Ardyn, meeting those twinkling eyes with a stony cold look of his own. From the corner of his eye he could see Gladio forcible pulling the prince back a step and putting himself in front of Noctis.

Ardyn used both of his own hands to close Ignis’s hand over the object. “I’m sure he would’ve wanted you to have it,” Ardyn continued. “Take care now!” Touching his hat in a brief salute he turned and walked off, soon disappearing down the path of the haven and out of sight.

Ignis remained rooted to the spot, his hand squeezing hard around the object in his hand, staring at the point where Ardyn had disappeared. His hand felt cold and oily, as if it had been submerged in some sort of disgusting sludge.

“Hey, you okay?” Promto anxiously put his hand on his shoulder.

“What the hell was that all about?” Gladio bit off. “What did he give you?”

Ignis didn’t need to look. He knew. Knew the shape intimately in his hand, knew what it meant. He forced himself to open his hand anyway, looking down into it. “It’s my uncle’s wedding band.” His voice was steady, that was good. The ring itself was white gold, the outside subtly shaped into the likeness of a tree branch. He could see a rusty brown tinging the groves of the branch. He closed his hand on the ring again. The others were staring at him, he knew. He should snap out of it, say something to break the pallor of the moment but he came up blank. And he was struck by a pressing need to be away, to be alone.

“I believe I left something in the car.” He could feel their concerned looks at his back as he left. Mercifully, no one seemed to follow.

He had known, of course, that there was a great likelihood his uncle had not survived the assault on Crown City. As a trusted advisor he worked closely to the king. Ignis hadn’t heard from him since the day of the attack. He hadn’t thought about it. Had chosen not to think about it. Staring down at the shiny hood of the Regalia but not really seeing it Ignis took a deep quiet breath and tried to think rationally. As natural as denial and grief were as emotional responses he did not have time for them. The empire would not wait for the dead, much less for the mourners. He had to push through this.

He opened the glove compartment and rifling around his hand eventually found a half-empty pack of cigarettes. He didn’t smoke anymore, hadn’t for years. It was an unproductive and destructive habit - Ignis put a cigarette between his lips and reached for the lighter – and sometimes it was the only thing that made his tight skin ease and allowed him to move freely.

He tsked in frustration when the lighter refused to spark a flame repeatedly. It was old and running out. He should’ve had the foresight to replace it.

“Need any help with that?”

Ignis turned around and found Noct stepping over the steel wire barrier onto the road next to the Regalia. Smoking in front of the prince was setting a terrible example. Ignis had lectured him on more than one occasion on the subject. He should decline, and throw out the pack. Instead he leaned in slightly closer as the prince produced a tiny magical flame above his index finger and let him light his cigarette.

The cigarettes were a bit old and dry and the first pull long and deep enough it incinerated almost half the cigarette in one go. Ignis closed his eyes for a second and sat down on the hood, holding, then slowly breathing out. Nicotine was a stimulant, but Ignis always felt it made him calmer. Perhaps because he was already so high-strung. Tightly controlled and coiled inside. Something about it unlocked that, made him move with more ease. Alert and loose at the same time. A moment of quiet passed before Noctis leaned against the hood next to him, hands shoved into his pockets.

“I’m sorry about your Uncle.” He offered quietly.

“It’s quite all right.” Another drag on the cigarette. It really wasn’t. “Everyone lost someone that day.” _You especially,_ Ignis thought with a sideward glance at the prince. Apart from the initial anger when he’d found out the prince had so far been acting as if it hadn’t happened at all, it worried Ignis immensely.

“Why… why did he, why didn’t your parents, uhm…” Noct trailed off uncertainly.

“Raise me?”

“Yeah.”

Ignis took another deep pull on the cigarette, he’d smoked it almost down to the filter already. Noctis had never asked him about that before, or any other particularly personal questions for that matter. Ignis hadn’t minded, their relationship was supposed to be close – but professional. Intimate sharing did not belong in such an equation.

“I was born in Otium, Tenebrae.”

“Oh?”

“On the eastern border.”

“…oh.” The prince knew enough of contemporary politics and history to fill in the significant blanks of that short statement.

Tenebrae shared its eastern border with the empire, it had been the subject of minor border violations for years before the empire invaded. Ignis flicked the butt of the cigarette away, landing on the ground a couple of feet ahead of them.

“It was a small mountain village, far from any major settlements.”

“Did the empire attack?”

Ignis coaxed another cigarette out of the package with one hand. Noctis conjured his small flame and Ignis leaned in, his hand grasping Noct’s wrist lightly to hold it steady as he lit the cigarette. The pale skin on the inside of his wrist felt smooth and warm against Ignis’s fingers and he found himself lingering there, just a second.

“Per official records a missile malfunctioned during a training exercise and veered off course.” He took another drag. “It hit the generators an hour after dusk.”

He’d been six or seven at the time. Still excited about doing homework like one of the big kids. And then everything had turned dark. The mid-morning sun was bearing down hard on the road, the sky a brilliant blue. It felt surreal to be thinking about that night now.  

“Shit.” Noctis muttered.

“Quite.”

“What happened?”

Ignis took another drag. “Standard procedure is to send as many people as possible in cars to neighbouring settlements and then return for more people.”

“And what about the people left behind?” Noctis asked quietly.

“The most effective deterrent for a daemon is a massive light source.”

Noctis frowned, “But without electricity…”

“They set fire to the village.”

There was a beat of shocked silence. “Ignis, that’s insane.”

“A desperate, yet highly efficient measure.” Ignis flicked the second butt on the ground and watched the smoke spiral upwards for a moment before the final embers died. He resisted the temptation of lighting a third one, it would make him sick. “It’s considered best practices. Even a couple of houses may burn all night.”

This time Noctis didn’t say anything, but Ignis could feel him looking at him. Ignis drummed his hand against his knees for a second before forcing it to lay still on his lap. He really wanted that third cigarette.

“They got about one third of the people out on the first run. Nursing infants and their mothers, the sick and the elderly. The second run was mostly children.”

He hadn’t wanted to go without his parents. He’d been scared, most of them had been, even the older children. He remembered his parents crouching down in front of him. The light of the flames painting their faces in flickering orange hues. Promising they’d be in the final run. The smell of smoke permeating into everything and it was confusing because it smelled like a big bonfire but bonfires were nice and this was awful and he was scared and he didn’t want to go without his parents. But he had to.

Ignis fixed his eyes on the road, staring off into the distance where it met the horizon. “Shortly after we left it started to rain, heavily.” The sun was reflecting off the road and it was hurting his eyes a little bit. “They attempted to return for the final third but unfortunately…”

He dug the ring out of his pocket, slowly turning it in his hand, the light catching even on the dull, unpolished surface. “… Anyhow, that is how I come to reside with my uncle in Insomnia.”

“You never told me.” Noctis murmured. Ignis chose deliberately to keep his eyes on the ring rather than look up and meet the blue eyes looking at him.

“You were very young, and you had quite enough on your own plate.”

“I would’ve understood.”

Ignis had been seven when he came into his uncle’s care. Noctis had been, what, a year old? Ignis remembered somewhat dimly a sweet, exuberant toddler and child. When Noctis lost his mother at age six Ignis had been twelve. He had had some idea of what the prince was going through, but he had had no idea of how to communicate with or comfort a child, and some part of him already knew that there were lines of privacy in their relationship, of decorum, that weren’t meant to be crossed.

“…I know.” He would have, Ignis was quite certain, better than anyone probably. There was silence again, apart from a car driving past on the otherwise empty road. Nothing else needed to be said, something that made Ignis feel a warm, comfortable gratitude.

“So what are you going to do with the ring?” Noct asked.

“Not quite sure.” Ignis held the ring up to examine it. It was a beautiful piece of work. He had always admired it.

“Could wear it.”

Ignis chuckled, “I’m afraid it’s quite a bit too large for me.” He slipped it on his ring finger to demonstrate where it hung almost comically loose. His uncle really had been a bear of a man.

“Oh hey, I have an idea.” Noctis got up and undid the clasp of his necklace, pulling out the carbuncle charm he usually kept hidden under his t-shirt.

“Noct-“ Ignis tried to protest as Noctis took the ring off his finger and slid it onto the chain.

“No offense, Specs, but I think you need this charm more than I do.” Noctis said with a hint of an amused smile.

Ignis sighed indulgently and let him. With the sun directly behind Noct it put his face in shadow, despite the bright day. As Noctis slid the chain around Ignis’s neck he felt a flicker of… something. Something about the angle, Noctis face in the shadows, fingers brushing against his hair. Ignis tilted his head slightly and frowned trying to reconcile the strong sense of déjà vu as Noctis fumbled with the clasp.

“There.” Noct sounded satisfied as the clasp finally clicked, his eyes flickering to focus on Ignis. His hands resting lightly on the sides of Ignis’s neck and Ignis suddenly worried that Noctis would feel how his pulse was hammering just below his fingers and aware of how close their faces were. He drew a breath and opened his mouth to ask something but his mind drew a blank and instead he just breathed out slowly. Something at the bottom of his mind bubbling up and if he could just _focus_ he would see it. Noctis cleared his throat and took a step back. Ignis blinked and whatever it was, was gone.

 

 

“Thank you, for listening.” Ignis said as they walked back towards the camp.

“No problem.” Noctis smirked, “Y’know, if I had known you’d be telling me such a sad story I’d bought you a drink.”

Ignis chuckled. “Is that so?”

“That’s what Gladio always says. Sad stories calls for strong drinks.”

“You do realize,” Ignis began dryly, “that he says that, primarily to young ladies such as miss Cindy I might add, to get laid?”

Noctis turned bright pink and sputtered so indignantly at that Ignis actually had to laugh. They were almost back to camp when Ignis put his hand on Noctis’s shoulder.

“Before we go back there’s something I need to ask you, and I need you to be honest with me.”

Noctis looked nervous and actually swallowed audibly. “What’s that?”

“Did I _really_ tell Gladio about the time I accidentally snuck you into a gay club?”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, two things.
> 
> 1\. So what WOULD Ignis look like with a beard? I try to picture it and I just can't. I just can't do it. And now it bugs me like nothing else. Fan artists? Help me out!
> 
> 2\. Okay, serious stuff. Up to this point I've been writing ahead roughly 2 chapters at a time to squeeze in time for editing but these last two were hard to write and that in addition with needing some time for brainstorming where to take this next means I've run out. So, while i'm hoping to keep up my current pace of updates (because I love writing this story) it might be a bit slower for a while. I also have another project I need to deal with in february in my free time that comes with a hard deadline. 
> 
> So, I hope you'll stick around to read regardless and if you wanna be sure not to miss any updates please subscribe! As always let me know what you think in the comments :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And after a long wait I am back! Still very busy with things but hopefully I'll be able to devote some more time to this now. I hope you enjoy this one, it's a bit longer than the other chapters, too.
> 
> EDIT: Went back and made a minor edit, I'd given the age 24 at a place where I meant to say 22.

Noctis’s face was illuminated by cold, blue light. The steam rising from his mouth as he breathed betrayed the nature of the spell he was working on – ice magic. Holding the glass bottle close to his face his hand cupped around the narrow opening Ignis could see the magic pouring into the bottle in slow, undulating, foggy coils. Lips pursed and eyebrows drawn the process apparently required all of his attention. It was one of the few times Ignis could openly watch the prince without Noctis noticing. Ignis found the process utterly fascinating and completely baffling. He had on more than once occasion attempted to get Noctis to explain the unique process of extracting magical energy from the land and concentrating it into spells (where did the energy go after the prince extracted it? Why was there a limit on how much he could hold? Could it be extended? How did he put it into glass bottles exactly?). Noctis had attempted to humour his inquiries for a while – until he had lost his patience and told Ignis in so many words to stop ruining his magic with science.

The prince was incorrigible sometimes.

Magic however – as fascinating as the process was – was not the reason Ignis was transfixing the prince with a penetrating stare this particular morning. Ignis was thinking. They’d scarcely stopped for breath since the empire attacked Crown City but this was their second day at Cape Caem and Ignis was finally starting to feel as if his shoulders were coming down from under his ears and he could start processing, which brought him back to the object of his scrutiny.

Ignis was well-adapted to his role of advisor – at least in ordinary circumstances. As royal advisor in a nation staggering under the weight of a losing war it had required the extraordinary every day in terms of priorities, strategy, endurance. In contrast, life on the run was absurdly simple and infuriatingly difficult. In place of the comfort of a familiar routine, every day on the road was an unwritten leaf up to and including whether any of them would get a chance to shower that day. In the crown city he had had a world of information at his fingertips, royal analysts, white papers, research, maps and classified reports to base his decisions on. On the road they had the radio if they were lucky.

It was entirely probably that the reason it felt like his relationship with the prince was shifting like sand beneath his feet was due to how uncertain their general circumstances had become, but something about that analysis rang hollow to him. And thus, Ignis watched, and tried to think. Noctis carefully put the finished glass bottle down in his bag and picked up another one, his movements measured and methodical.

“I can tell you’re staring, y’know.” Noctis commented, not looking up. Ignis was rather grateful of the latter fact as he was certain he looked as guilty as he felt.

 “… I still don’t understand how you do that.” His tounge stuck to the roof of his mouth momentarily. It wasn’t a lie, per se, merely one by omission. It should not be so difficult to say.

Noctis chuckled quietly, “Suppose that’s a royal privilege.” He looked up, a hint of a smile on his face, before focusing on the work at hand. It was a shame he didn’t smile more. It really lit up his eyes. A lot of people found Noctis to be cold and aloof. Difficult to read was the diplomatic phrasing. In his more charitable moments he acknowledged that few people knew the prince as intimately as he himself did and the many minor nuances of Noctis’s tone of voice, mannerisms and facial expressions. In his less charitable moments Ignis had found himself wondering if that was truly the case or whether the prince just happened to meet an unusually high amount of dim-witted people.

But Ignis knew him, intimately. So why did it feel like he was studying him all over again? Getting to know him all over again?

Things had been difficult when Ignis had gone abroad for his master’s degree. He’d been 22 at the time, same age as the Prince was now, Noctis had been 16. Height of awkward teenagehood. They’d fought about it, one of the more memorable fights they’d had. Ignis still felt a little bad about it whenever it came to mind, he had been conflicted about going but his uncle had insisted. And it had been good. He hadn’t realized how devoured he had been by his job. It gave him space to meet new people, figure out who he was outside of his job. It had let him grow up.

Perhaps the prince was going through something similar. Ignis could see Prompto wandering over from the vegetable patch and sitting down next to Noctis, chatting about something. It would be strange to go back to Altissia after all these years.

“Once you’re quite finished we ought to get on the road.” Ignis commented. Gladio had left the party the day before on a mission of his own, leaving Noctis, Ignis and Prompto to search out the necessary materials to repair His Majesty’s boat on their own.

Ignis would generally not have been concerned about their capability to handle the task but the road towards their goal, the Vesperpool, was lined by imperial roadblocks. Getting to their destination could prove to be tricky.

“Be right there.” Noctis responded distractedly. Ignis was fairly confident the prince hadn’t heard him. He sighed and got up to check that the car was properly packed.

 

*******

 

Ignis had expected that the absence of Gladio would have to be accounted for, primarily because as the prince’s personal bodyguard he brought a lot of power to any fight. Ignis had not quite anticipated how his absence would change the group dynamic. In the backseat Noctis and Prompto were having an animated discussion about King’s knight. Ignis had tuned out the details a long time ago in favour of focusing on the road, but the light from their respective phones was distracting. Ignis suppressed a sigh and ignored how tension was building between his shoulder blades. It was raining, with darkness swiftly falling. Due to an unexpectedly long pit stop to change a blown tire they would not be reaching their destination for another hour or two. He hated driving in the dark. One of the phones started playing a loud, tinny commercial and Ignis grimaced as the lights bounced off the windows, making the road hard to see.

“Prompto, Noctis, please put your phones away.”

“Aww Iggy I was just showing Noct how if you use this cheat-“

“That may very well be but I can’t-“

That was as far as Ignis got before something large and loud hit the roof of the car above his head. Something alive.

And then, things happened very fast.

The engine roared as the back of the car started skidding to the side. Prompto shouted. Ignis swore as he attempted to regain control of the waterplaning car. Whatever was on top of the car struck at the roof – hard. Ignis ducked instinctively as the ceiling buckled ominously above him. It struck again. He could hear metal screeching. A rush of cold, wet air. Gunshots. From the rear-view window he could see Prompto half-hanging out of the rear window, firing his gun at whatever was on the roof. There was a long bone piercing screech and a violent jerk as the creature disappeared. By choice or if Prompto had shot it he couldn’t tell. Easing on the gas Ignis could feel the Regalia regaining connection with the road with a jerk. He righted the car and brought it to a stop on the side of the road.

There was a long moment where no one said anything before Ignis slowly willed himself to let go of his death grip on the wheel.

“Dude,” Prompto breathed, sounding shocked “You dropped an F-bomb!”

“Everyone out of the car.” Ignis ordered tightly. His legs actually felt like jelly as he got out, his heart still hammering hard. There was a large indentation in the roof and long gouges in the paint, probably made by claws. The impact had caused the windscreen to partially crack. It had to be a daemon, but no daemon Ignis was familiar with would do this.

“Cindy’s gonna be pissed.” Well, at least Prompto had priorities. Ignis ignored the statement in favour of the pragmatic.

“Did you kill it?” he asked, pushing his hair out of his eyes, it was still drizzling and his hair was getting wet.

“I don’t think so. She, it, whatever, took off.”

Ignis swore again, walking around the car and peering out into the woods. They’d stopped on a piece of road higher than the surrounding area, near the river. Black feathers lay scattered all over the road. The creature was likely to return then.

“Dude, again with the F-bombs-“

“There is nothing wrong with swearing in the appropriate context. Now,” Ignis began sternly. “Are any of you injured?”

Mute headshakes. Well, at least there probably wouldn’t be anymore king’s knight videos going off in the car for the rest of the way.

“Very well, we should resume or journey and head for the nearest safe haven and-“

A quiet, wooshing sound, barely audible above the rain, was all the warning he got. It struck him hard across the chest, sending him flying backwards and toppling over the wire-railing. He had half a second to appreciate how far he was falling before a flash of sparking silver and something hit him hard across the side, sending both of them sideways and then rolling down the slope onto the muddy river bank.

“You ok?” Noctis gasped, looking down on him, hands supported on Ignis’s chest, mud spattered across his face.

Ignis opened his mouth to respond, and then caught sight of movement above them.

“Look out!” He grabbed hold of Noctis and yanked them both hard to the side as the spot they’d just been in exploded in a shower of mud and water. Stumbling to his feet Ignis threw a fire spell at the creature, hearing a satisfying shriek in response. It took off again, but landed just slightly above them on the river bank.

The fire briefly caught on some bushes, illuminating the area, making the monster stand out more clearly. Whatever the creature was it looked to be female, human in shape and with large feathered wings. In the light of the dying flames he could see her face more clearly, she had red hair. Ignis blinked.

That was not possible.

“My, Mr. Scientia. You do present a rather different front out in the wild.”

“Madeleine.” He whispered.

He didn’t care how muddled his memories from those nights had become. She definitely had not had wings back then. She smiled, but there was something wrong about it, more wrong than he remembered. _Hand gripping his chin hard. “How many tombs has the prince visited?”_ He blinked at the flash of memory.

“You remember, Mr. Scientia, excellent.” There was something wrong with her eyes, too. Dark and oily-looking.

“That’s the woman who took you?” Noctis whispered, his voice choking back anger.

“It used to be.” Ignis murmured. “I don’t know what they did to her.”

She must’ve heard them because she chuckled and unfurled her wings to their full length, beating them once for dramatic effect. _An empty lab full of cages and glass tubes. Human sized._ He blinked and shook his head. He didn’t have time for this now. He felt hot and sweaty despite the cold and had to force himself to breathe calmly.

“Curious as ever, Mr. Scientia.” _Human sized, human sized. Oh gods._ “I’ve had some necessary upgrades in order to complete my task.”

“And what task is that?” He whispered. _Arms pulled taught above his head, chains biting into his wrists. Gasping from a strike to the solar plexus._

She smiled. Widely enough that Ignis could see rows of sharp teeth. _Icy water, can’t breathe can’t breathe-_ “All things must come to an end Mr. Scientia, curiosity, too.”

He wasn’t a cowardly man by most reckonings. But when she took a step towards him, baring jagged teeth he stepped backwards instinctively, his foot sliding ankle deep into the water. With the river behind them there was precious little to no room to maneuver. _Whips snapping across his shoulders can’t breathe human cages icy waters can’t breathe-_

“I do not believe you’ll come out of the waters this time Mr. Scientia.”

That was all the motivation Noct needed, apparently. They moved almost simultaneously, Noctis warping in to strike as she pushed off into a dive attack. They collided in mid-air, throwing them both of balance. Seeing Noctis roll on the ground, struggling to find his footing pulled Ignis into action almost by habit. Knives in his hands he moved into a defensive position, blocking a slash of long vicious claws as Noctis got on his feet.

Anyone else would’ve found the winged woman a formidable foe – except for Noctis. Warping across the river bank he was faster, though he couldn’t go as high as her. Ignis shook his head and tried to ignore the memory of icy cold water engulfing his head. His lungs burning from a lack of oxygen. She shrieked loudly, angrily. A contrast to her polite manners that was both inexplicable and terrifying. She’d disappeared from sight again, the rain and the darkness working in her favour, and then she struck again from above, throwing him to the ground. He managed to grab ahold of her as they rolled down the slope to the water’s edge. The water, the cold, the pain as she dug into his shoulders should’ve been terrifying. But unlike his memories he was unbound, undrugged and the all-consuming feeling pulsating through him wasn’t fear – it was rage. This woman – this monster – had kidnapped him, tried to blackmail the prince, attempted to put everything he had ever cared for in jeopardy. It was unacceptable and he would extract the bloody price for it from her for daring to do so. He hissed as sharp claws dragged across his chest. His jacket took the brunt of the blow but it smarted and he could feel hot blood trickling down his chest. He slashed upwards in retaliation and felt a grim satisfaction as he connected and she shrieked, leaving his ears ringing. He punched at her face with the blunt end of his dagger, using the momentum to push off the ground. She suddenly whipped around whacking him hard with her wings and sending him tumbling back to the ground. Ignis scrambled to get back on his feet but rather than pressing her advantage she took off, powerful wings quickly carrying her out of range.

“That bloody-“ He started after her, eyes fixed on where she had disappeared against the horizon. Someone put their hands on his chest, pushing. “I am going to hunt her down and-“

“Ignis, calm down-“

“Noct, I swear if you don’t get out of the way-“

“Ignis!” Ignis blinked as Noctis grabbed a hold of his hair and yanking hard, pulling their faces close. It hurt a bit, sending a shower of sparks down his spine. “She’s gone.” Noctis continued, softer now that Ignis was no longer relentlessly stalking down the river bank.

“Sorry about that.” He sounded a bit more breathless than he had expected. He could barely see through his water and mud-splattered glasses and took them off, putting them in his coat pocket. Noctis hands slowly, almost reluctantly, let go of his hair. Rather than stepping back, his hands slid down to his chest, gently feeling the gouges she had left there. Ignis winced a little. Truthfully his entire body ached after that first fall.

“She hurt you.” He whispered, his voice hoarse and a little quavery. Ignis wasn’t the only one who’d been given a recent fright. That was something he could handle. Something tangible and real.

 “I’ll be fine your majesty.” He murmured.

Noctis looked up at him through wet and plastered hair and Ignis couldn’t resist the temptation to gently comb it to the sides so he could see him clearly. For a moment the only sound was the river and the soft, drizzling rain.

And then, standing there in the rain, clothes drenched and plastered to their bodies it was suddenly there, like it had always been there. Every detail clear yet oddly muted, like looking at something through a dirty window pane. Slightly muddled and muted. Body aching, chest smarting, cold. No glasses. A hand brushing through his hair.

Warm lips on his.

“Noct?”

“Hmm?”

The question was out of his mouth before he had made a conscious decision to ask it.

“Did you kiss me?”

The silence that followed was as deafening as it was telling. Noct turned slightly pale under Ignis searching gaze. His mouth opening to respond and then closed it again. Ignis did not need a confirmation per se, he remembered. What he needed, was clarity.

A lot of people assumed Ignis to be a cautious man, disposed towards inaction and indecisiveness. They did not know him particularly well. He just wanted to have all the facts on the table. Once those were known decisions could be made swiftly and decisively. Sometimes acquiring knowledge required action. He just needed to know, needed to remember what it had felt like.

He just wanted things to be clear. Crystal clear.

His hand slid from Noctis’s face to gently hold the back of his head as he leaned in and pressed his lips against Noct’s. His lips were warm and silky and it sent a gentle warmth through his cold, shivering body. Noct stood utterly stock-still, as if frozen into place. Ignis took half a step back, breaking off the kiss. His heart beating painfully fast.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-“

One second Noct was standing stock still, the other he was stepping forward, his arms sliding up from Ignis’s chest and wrapping around his neck and kissing him urgently, cutting off all further replies and further thoughts. The first kiss had been gentle and tentative. This was all-consuming and hungry, demanding, wanting, needing. Ignis was dimly aware of how Noctis moved, his hands fisting in Ignis’s hair and pulling him down closer, sending torrents of electrified sparks through his body. His own arms wrapping around the other man, driven by an all-consuming need to be closer, closer, closer. Their wet clothes sticking together, teeth raking across his bottom lip. He made a sound. Something deep and humming in his chest, full of needing. Wanting. Hot tounges finding each other and tangling, exploring. He could hear Noctis gasp and it almost undid him right there.

“Heeeeey!” They broke apart. Chests heaving, their breath steaming in the air as Prompto’s voice echoed out over the river bank from the road. Noctis’s hands still held a firm grip of his hair, keeping him close, it was almost unbearable not to be kissing him. “Where are you! Are you ok?” Ignis closed his eyes and swallowed hard. Prompto sounded worried, almost scared. Somehow he found his voice again.

“We’re fine!” He raised his voice, loud enough to carry up to the road. He sounded normal. Mostly normal. “We just need to find the stairs back up to the road!”

He put his hands on Noctis’s shoulders and gently pushed them both apart a couple of inches. He tried to read the emotions on Noctis’s face and failed utterly. His own usually oh-so-cool head was churning so fast it made him dizzy. He had to stop himself from just not leaning into it and losing himself in that electrifying kiss again.

“We need to get going.” He said quietly, his voice rasping.  

“Ignis,” Noctis whispered and it somehow said everything. Ignis squeezed his eyes shut, struggling to find that inner locust of control that he needed to let go, to step back, to end the moment they were in.

“I know.” He drew a shaky breath and stepped back deliberately. “We’ll talk about this later.” Ignis took another step backwards and managed to untangle himself from Noctis. He opened his mouth to say something else, anything, but words eluded him. He closed his mouth and turned around, and began walking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is my way of saying thank you for your patience during the hiatus ;) 
> 
> Your thoughts and comments are as always wonderfully appreciated and I try to respond to everyone so please do not hesitate to comment! :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this scene got away from me a little bit. It was supposed to be a brief interlude but turned almost into its own chapter. I debated a little with myself on whether to keep it together with the next upcoming chapter but I wanted to keep up some moment in posting as well so I deciced to make it a stand-alone, but this is why it's a bit shorter than normal. Hope you enjoy!

It took five attempts before Ignis managed to coax a flame out of his dying lighter long enough to light a cigarette. Taking a long, shaky drag he leaned on the second story railing of the cheap motel they’d ended up in, staring vacantly down at the parking lot without really seeing it. It was well past midnight, both Noctis and Prompto were sound asleep. Ignis ought to be, too, but his mind was spinning around listlessly, like a top refusing to come to rest on the table.

They’d kissed.

He’d kissed Noctis. Noctis Lucis Caeulm, Prince and Heir apparent to the Kingdom of Lucis, keeper of the Crystal, Chosen by the Gods. As if that was not bad enough, he had practically help raise Noctis as a child. He was his charge, his ward. Ignis lit another cigarette and tried to think. If he could just figure out how this had come to be exactly he’d find a way to put it all back in its rightful place again.

He’d kissed Noctis. Noctis had kissed him back. His hand ghosted through his hair, feeling the memory of how Noctis had pulled him down close, the feeling of wrapping his arms around him, their bodies pressing together. His face felt flushed at the memory. It would have been so much easier to deal with if this had been one-sided.

He shook his head. He needed to focus. He remembered the feeling of Noctis teeth running over his bottom lip and reassessed his assumption of exactly how inexperienced the prince was, though he couldn’t imagine where the prince had learned something quite like that.

Ignis pinched the bridge of his nose hard with a groan of exasperation and lit another cigarette.

He wanted to kiss Noctis again. More. He wanted more than kissing.

Wanting things you could not have was unproductive. And painful. Ignis had learned that lesson young and in the ways of such lessons, it was not easily forgotten. The dead did not return to the living no matter how much one might desire it. It was better altogether to steer clear of wishing for things you could not have, especially when the world was full of things that needed your attention.

He reached for another cigarette and found the pack empty. Tsking in frustration he flattened the package and then distractedly began unfolding its corners and refolding it into an ever smaller square. He wished that Gladio was there. His presence would shift the balance of the group, shoulder some of the burden of age. Ignis even seriously considered using him as a sounding board for a moment. Gladio understood these things far better than Ignis ever would. Then again, he’d probably never hear the end of it if he did.  

For the first time in a very long time Ignis did not have the faintest clue as how to proceed. When he collapsed into bed, exhausted, it was nearly dawn.

 

*******

 

Being an adult was – in comparison to being a child or a teenager – very often a blessing. It meant financial and physical independence, a greater capacity for self-reflection and greater self-awareness. Of course, sometimes it just meant that you knew you were handling something poorly and that you had no idea how to fix that.

The past two days had been absolutely torturous. The flickering memories brought to life by Madeleine’s visit had translated into nightmares that had him bolting upright in the middle of the night drenched in cold sweat and gasping for air, struggling to breathe under water that only existed in his memories. Unable to find a moment of privacy the kiss hung between them like an ominous cloud that for each passing hour seemed to enunciate with evermore unforgiving clarity what a monstrous mistake he had committed.

And of course he knew, he understood perfectly well that he was in no state to come to any conclusions in regards to what it all meant, especially on his own without consulting the other person it all concerned. And yet, sleep deprived, chased by nightmares and the empire it felt eminently reasonable. And with no other potential solution in sight, Ignis retreated into a white-knuckled formality. Noctis hid inside his shell of apathy and napped through as much of the journey as he could and Prompto, sensing yet not understanding the misery travelling with them turned into his most painfully chipper, happy self to balance the dark cloud above them.

Road blocks would have been a blessing and a distraction but they travelled unimpeded all the way to the Vesper Pool, only adding to Ignis’s suspicions. And of course, as they neared the actual tomb…

“Gentlemen, what a pleasant surprise.”

“Ugh, told ya, he’d be waiting.” Not even Prompto could be cheerful at all times, apparently.

“With my imperial friends no less.” Chancellor Izunia was not one to be deterred by obvious and open hostility. His smile remained as amused as ever, as if he knew some joke he was not sharing with anyone else.

“Splendid.” Ignis spat, not bothering to hide his animosity. It seemed to amuse the chancellor. Ignis did not like how he – and the empire – kept turning up in various forms. From roaming MT’s all the way up to the chancellor it seemed like they were all too easy to find and Ignis did not care for it. There had to be a reason the empire could find them so easily but he couldn’t figure it out. Nor did he understand why the chancellor was helping them. Neither, apparently, did Aranea

“So you’re the new recruits they sent over for ‘special training’. Nice cover runaway prince.” Ignis could practically hear the sarcasm dripping off her tongue. Aranea was not high on the list of people he had been interested in meeting again. In fact, if they never ever ran into strange women who had tried to kill them all ever again he’d be satisfied. However, seeing as the choice apparently was to go with her as their escort into the ruins – or not go at all Ignis held his tongue and said nothing of it as they waited for nightfall.

The sun was setting and Ignis was sitting on the steps leading up to the ruins when Noctis came and sat down next to him.

“Highness,” the acknowledgement came automatic as it had for the past few days.

“Stop calling me that.” Noctis muttered moodily and Ignis had to bite the inside of his lip to keep a, _“as his majesty wishes”_ from rolling off his tongue. His uncle really ought to have devoted a few lessons to this counter-intuitive aspect of royal etiquette.

“Noct,” he said instead with an incline of his head. He’d sat down close enough that their legs were brushing up against one another, close enough that he could feel Noctis’s body heat in the approaching evening chill. Noct was staring determinedly down at his own knees, thumbs twiddling back and forth nervously.

“So…” Noctis began, exchanging thumb twiddling for drumming his fingers against his knee instead.

“I gather you want to talk about what happened?” Ignis offered after a beat of silence. Noctis nodded mutely in response. “Do you suppose this is really a good time?”

“I doubt we’re going to get a better one.” Noctis muttered.

“A fair point I suppose,” Ignis conceded. Gladio wasn’t around, the Chancellor had mercifully left and Prompto was busy trying to flatter Aranea into letting him take a selfie with her as far as Ignis could tell down by the far end of the ruins. It was as close to being alone they’d been or were likely to be anytime soon. He knew what needed to be said in order to put this entire business to rest. He merely hadn’t figured out exactly how to phrase it quite yet.

“So, that happened.” Noct continued, still addressing his knees. It was going to be one of those conversations then, where Noct wanted to talk about something but Ignis would have to drag it all out of him. It would’ve been annoying but it was actually a bit of a relief. It was a dynamic he was familiar with. He could handle this.

“It did.” He agreed calmly.

“It was good, wasn’t it?” He could feel more than see Noctis glancing at him.

“…It was.” Ignis conceded. Good was something of an understatement, not that that was the point, nor the path he intended for this discussion to go down. He took a deep breath and tried to figure out how to get the discussion trending in the correct direction.

“I want to do it again.” Noctis spoke quickly, his body tense and staring down hard at his hands, clasped in his lap. It was probably good, it meant he couldn’t see Ignis staring at him, trying to understand how the conversation had gotten away from him so completely. “Ignis?” Noctis prompted nervously when the silence stretched between them.

“Noct,” he began, attempting to sort through the myriad of reasons swirling through his head to form an effective, well-reasoned argument. “I am your advisor. We are on a high-risk mission-

“Ignis-“

“-It is not advisable even in the best of circumstances to-“

“-Do you want to do it again?”

Ignis stared at Noctis, his tongue sticking to the roof his mouth. He could say no. He could say that while the kiss had certainly been enjoyable he had no particular desire to attempt it again. That his preference was to keep their relationship professional, if friendly. It would end whatever this was effectively and once Gladio returned the awkwardness could probably be kept to a minimum. He could put the whole thing to rest.

Except he couldn’t.

“What any of us want is irrelevant.” He said, instead, struggling to keep his voice measured and even.

“That’s bullshit Ignis.”

“You are the prince.” Ignis pulled out a cleaning cloth out of one of his pockets and began polishing his glasses. “I am your advisor. My job and my duty is to get you through this and back on your throne. At which point you will marry and my job will be to aid you in ruling your kingdom.”

“Ignis just, will you stop doing that?” Noctis grabbed his wrist, putting a halt on Ignis’s quest to eradicate smudges of off his spectacles, forcing him to look at Noctis.  “Would you just… answer the question?”

Ignis was convinced Noct could feel his pulse strumming wildly beneath the thin skin on the inside of his wrist. _Do you want to do it again?_ He wanted to pull Noctis close and kiss him breathless, run his hands up under that black t-shirt and-

The ruins behind them emitted a gravelly, groaning sound of stone slabs grinding against one another, releasing a gust of stale, cold air.

“That’s our cue, recruits!” Aranea called from further down the ruins. Ignis pulled his hand back and put his glasses on.

“We should get going,” he said, standing up.

Noctis looked like he wanted to say something else, but Prompto was bounding up the stairs towards them, chattering excitedly. Instead he tsked in frustration and stomped into the ruins, shaking his head in frustration. Ignis watched him go with a leaden lump forming in his belly.

“Hey, what was that all about?” Prompto asked casually, framing a shot of the entranceway.

“Just a conversation about princely duties.”

“Ugh, that sounds awful.” Prompto commented before heading into the ruins.

“Sometimes more than normal.” Ignis murmured, mostly to himself. He could hear Aranea as she came up the stairs, her armour clinking slightly with each step. He could swear she gave him a long, knowing look as she walked past him. It was in all likelihood his sleep-deprived paranoia getting to him.

Ignis gave himself a shake and headed into the ruins. The sooner they got this over with, the better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think in the comments :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG sorry guys this took so long! Mass Effect Andromeda came out and, well, yeah. But now that I've finished the game I'll hopefully have some brainspace for these adorable dorks again. Hope you like this one!
> 
> ***

The air slowly turned cold and clammy as they descended into the ruins. Ignis unrolled his sleeves and buttoned the top button of his shirt back up, but even after shrugging into his jacket the cold seeped deep into his bones and seemed to stay there. Their “escort” however, Aranea, did not seem the least bit perturbed. Her stance and eyes suggested a cautious alertness. She took the assignment seriously then, if nothing else for the daemons they were encountering down there.

Ignis lost his train of thought as they exited the warren of tunnels they’d been in and emerged into a large chamber lit by eerie blue light. The vaults seemed to climb all the way to heaven, a marvel of architecture if he’d ever seen one and astonishingly well-preserved for something so ancient.

“Beautiful beyond words…” Ignis paused for a moment to admire the expanse spreading out before them, and try to figure out where the strange, blueish light was coming from.

“Well, this is pretty neat.” Aranea commented, coming to a stop next to him.

“You haven’t been down before I take it?” Ignis asked, curious against his better judgement.

“Well-“

“Look up!” Prompto pointed eagerly at the  ceiling of the large chamber, where the light was filtering down. Ignis blinked. It didn’t look so much like a ceiling as it did…

“If that’s the water’s surface-” Aranea murmured.

“Wait, what? Does this mean we’re underwater? Woah, there’s even fish.”

Ignis had never more acutely wished for Prompto to be wrong but little shapes were indeed lazily swimming, or flying? Through the water, or the air. Ignis swallowed and took a deep, quiet breath and tried not to think too hard about the paradox of their circumstances, or being underwater at all, really. He started in surprise at a warm hand at the small of his back.

“You ok?” Noctis asked quietly.

“I’ll be fine,” he cast a glance at Aranea who seemed to still be taking in the strange ceiling, “your majesty.”

Noctis cast a glance her way, too. She was standing well within earshot. “You’re not…” he trailed off, searching for suitable wording. Ignis could imagine a few, but none that he felt comfortable with given their escort. He didn’t like the situation they were in, or where their last conversation had left off. It hadn’t been settled properly, but their current circumstances left no room for discussion.

“Nothing that warrants royal attention.” He said quietly, instead. Noctis sighed and gave his shoulder a brief squeeze before moving forward again. He had a feeling that Aranea stared at him just a beat too long, but then she moved ahead to check out the path with Noctis and Ignis wasn’t quite sure if he’d imagined it or not. He sighed quietly and followed the others. The quicker they got what they needed and got out of here the better.

The age of the ruins soon proved to be an obstacle of its as they clambered over fallen pillars and cautiously skirted around large holes in the ground. Eventually they reached a crossroads, of a sorts. The tunnels continued inwards to their right while ahead of them the path stretched straight – if they were willing to skirt the enormous hole in the ground via a narrow and crumbly ledge.

“The tunnels appear to be better preserved, it would be the safer path.” Ignis commented.

“Yeah, but it looks like there’s a staircase beyond there? It’d take us down faster.” Noctis gestured towards the far end of the path ahead, it was difficult to see clearly in the dim light, but it might be a staircase.

“Lookout!” Aranea’s warning shout saved him from a flan landing right on top of him as he drew his knives and jumped to the side. There was only a couple of them, but they were hemmed in by the hole in the ground. Ignis had just dispatched one with a final downward gash when he heard Prompto shout, he turned just in time to see Prompto falling over the edge, and Noctis warping after him.

“Noct!” he stepped instinctively to follow only to be tugged back hard by his collar.

“Don’t be an idiot!” Aranea hissed angrily. He would’ve responded, but they had two more flans to dispatch before the entire herd was culled.

Panting slightly Ignis made his way to the edge, cautiously leaning over.

“Are you two ok?” He called down. Noctis was helping Prompto up, it looked like they’d fallen down one story, landed on the edge and it had collapsed under them, sending them down another story. It was too far even for Noctis to warp up, and without the first ledge to land on it looked like a fall would break their legs if Ignis and Aranea attempted to join them.

“We’re fine!” Noctis shouted and then coughed in the dust they’d stirred up. “It doesn’t look like we can get back up.”

Ignis grimaced. “We’ll have to find an alternative route. We will attempt to find you further down.”

“Roger that,” Noctis waved him off and turned to help Prompto get back on his feet. Ignis retreated from the ledge and together with Aranea chose the rightward path, into the tunnels.

 

***

“You don’t like me, do you?”

They’d been walking for the better part of an hour, mostly in silence, making short work of the occasional daemon when Aranea asked her question. She sounded more amused than hostile.

“I don’t particularly care for the empire or any of its representatives.” Ignis returned coolly.

“Why?” She responded with what Ignis had begun consider her trademark sarcasm, “the empire kill your family or something?”

“As a matter of fact.” Ignis responded in clipped tones.

“Huh, fair enough I suppose.”

That line of exchange killed all conversation for a while, and Ignis’s mind begun to wander back to the conversation he and Noctis had had before entering the ruins. He was certain he’d made the right decision. He could still remember the feel of Noctis’s hand around his wrist. Warm, soft. _Do you want to do it again?_

If it was the right decision, then why did he feel so absolutely wretched about it?

“And what about you, Aranea?”

Aranea cast a searching glance at him, “what about me?”

“You used to be a mercenary, why did you decide to join the empire?”

“Look,” Aranea pulled her glaive out as a gaggle of flans fell from the ceiling, “I’ll spell it out for ya. Selling your sword requires a viable market.” The flans gurgled as the blade slices through them effortlessly. “And the empire has essentially created a monopoly on violence. There’s no one else to sell to.”

Aranea side-stepped a skeleton as Ignis slid in, slicing through brittle bones, sending it flying.

“I suppose that makes sense.” Ignis conceded.

“Mind if I finish this one off?” She commented as Ignis narrowly dodged a skeleton trying to grab him and drag him to the ground.

“No,” Ignis responded tartly, “but I am loath to make a lady bloody her own hands.”

“Little late for that.” Aranea commented dryly, slicing the skeleton in half with a powerful overhand blow. “Fucking daemons.” She put her glaive away with a disgusted noise as the last one fell. “I’ve been with the empire over ten years, perhaps it’s time I left.”

“What about the empire strikes you as ‘not quite right’?”

“The emperor and new high commander, for starters. Then there’s that charmer of a chancellor. I really can’t stand that guy. After he showed up we started doing this,” She commented with a sweeping arm gesture.

“This?”

“Why do you think the empire’s here? It’s not for the mithril.”

They’d finally reached a staircase, taking them down a level. With a bit of luck they could start finding their way back to the central chamber soon. Ignis pushed his glasses back up and tried to think. He quickly dismissed the idea of the empire searching out rare or ancient architecture and art. But beyond that and the mithril the place was literally devoid of anything useful. Unless… a memory rose unbidden, like an air bubble rising to the surface. _In order to make a living being part of the MT it requires a human spark. Mere beasts does not interest the host._ Half-finished MT pieces laying on a table. Human sized bird cages, and glass tubes. _The host._

“You’re here for the daemons.” Ignis breathed. He actually felt a little sick. “The empire needs them to make Magitek Troopers.”

“I- how did you know that?” Aranea actually looked surprised, then concerned. “Hey, you don’t look so hot.”

Ignis put a hand on one of the pillars for support and absent-mindedly tugged on his collar. He was sweating despite the cold air. “I had the misfortune of being a guest of the empire recently. I happened on one of the labs on my way out.”

Aranea put a hand on his shoulder, pressing down firmly. “Sit. If you throw up it’s gonna attract even more daemons.”

Ignis was not inclined to argue at the moment. He sat down and leaned forward a little, elbows resting on his knees. Aranea sat down next to him after a moment, handing him a water bottle.

“My apologies, it was an unpleasant experience.” He said after taking a sip.

“I’d heard,” Aranea commented dryly, “You made a mess on the way out. The chancellor wasn’t happy.”

“My heart breaks for him.” Ignis muttered dryly, downing the last of the water.

“I don’t give a shit about the chancellor, he took it out on the people in charge, people went _missing_.”

Ignis froze halfway up. It did not go unnoticed.

“You know something. Spill.”

“The woman in charge was a Ms. Doler Autor.”

“Madeleine.” Aranea confirmed impatiently. She was a person whose full attention was uncomfortable to bear Ignis observed. “She’s a mercenary. Batshit crazy, but hella good at what she does. People like her don’t just go missing.”

“She…” Ignis trailed off momentarily, unsure how to word himself. He hardly believe it himself, despite the evidence of his own eyes.

“Well?”

“I believe they turned her into a Daemon.”

There was a beat of silence. Aranea was staring down the staircase ahead of them where it bent to the right and disappeared out of view, her gaze faraway. Water was dripping somewhere out of sight, the sound loud in the silence.

“Shit.” She finally said. “How do you figure?”

Ignis grimaced slightly as he gave an abbreviated account of their encounter on their way to the Vesperpool. What with everything that had happened between him and Noctis the encounter with Madeleine had receded somewhat in his imagination and he did not particularly care for reliving it. 

“Shit.” Aranea said again. “Fuck.”

“Were the two of you close?” Ignis asked, somewhat unwillingly sympathetic.

“She was a fucking bitch.” Aranea responded, seeming to finally shake herself out of her shock, she began walking again. “She’d stab you in the back if you weren’t careful, but she was good at her job. I learned a lot from her.” She made a disgusted noise. “Izunia had something to do with this.”

“I imagine he did.”

“Y’all trying to take him down?”

“Noct- His Majesty is on a mission against the empire to reclaim his kingdom,” Ignis responded, slipping habitually on Noctis’s name. He wasn’t “Noct” with strangers, he reminded himself, he was His Majesty.

Aranea smirked. “Noct? That pretty boy’s pet name?”

“I beg your pardon?” Ignis asked, somewhat stiffly.

“Oh please,” Aranea snorted, “I’m not blind like shortcake. Pretty boy _stares_. It’s not subtle.”

“His name,” Ignis began tightly, “Is His Majesty Noctis Lucis Caelum, Heir apparent to the Kingdom of Lucis, keeper of the Crystal, Chosen by the Gods-“

“Kinky.”

Ignis did not know that one could choke on mere air, but was quickly learning otherwise. “He is engaged to be married to the Lady Lunafreya of Tenebrae.”

“You really think that will happen now?”

Ignis quirked an irritated eyebrow at her by way of question.

“The marriage was part of the peace treaty with the empire, that’s clearly off the table,” Aranea elaborated, “so why would they still be engaged?”

Laid out that way it sounded perfectly sensible and Ignis couldn’t fathom why he himself hadn’t considered it earlier. Some part of him felt unsettled by the idea. Noctis engaged to be married was a… safer idea. It kept things clear, well-delinated. This made things murky.

“It hardly matters,” he hedged. “It isn’t appropriate.“ Not that he expected her to understand the importance of that. As far as he could tell she’d spent her life muddying borders and crossing lines.

“You’re not as subtle as you think either.” Aranea snorted. “You both stare when you think no one can see you.”

Ignis could feel a hot flush spread across his cheeks, which he sincerely hoped would go unnoticed in the dim hallway. If Aranea could notice the prince certainly could too, he should not be encouraging that.

“I hardly need to explain the importance of the mission we’re on,” he continued stonily, “we cannot afford to be distracted.”

“Look, you can have how many sticks you want up your ass for all I care. Unhappy people are distracted no matter how appropriate or not. If you wanna stay focused, you find a way for everyone to be happy, or you find yourself dead.” Aranea looked practically bored as she spoke, it shouldn’t have annoyed him as much as it did.

Ignis opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by a loud, angry roar beyond the turn of the corner and felt a familiar crackling chill in the air- one of Noctis’s ice spells. Ignis drew his daggers and started running.

 

*******

Rounding the corner saw them back in the main hall, almost at the bottom floor. The space opened up to a vast ceiling only interrupted by bridges with blue light filtering in from the watery surface. It was beautiful. Ignis was, however, more concerned with the battle raging on the bottom floor beneath them. The roar that had originally alerted them shook the vast halls again and now Ignis saw the cause as Noct plunged his sword deep into the side of an enormous dragon. Numerous slashes and burns marred its scaly skin and as it howled in rage it spewed torrents of electricity out across the floor, knocking both Noctis and Prompto off their feet. As Noct struggled to get back on his feet the creature lashed out with its tail, banging him hard against one of the stone pillars with a hard crack. He landed with a dull thud and did not get back up.

“Noct!” Ignis was running before he knew it, shouting his name desperately.

Aranea, however, was faster. Darting ahead she jumped high into the air. She lingered deceptively for one long moment in the air and then she fell, plunging her spear deep into the dragon’s spine. The next few moments passed by in seeming slow-motion. The dragon howled in pain and anger, rearing up on its hindlegs, making the entire structure shake. Ignis paid it no heed, he was running, faster than he’d ever run before and then he was jumping into the air, aiming his daggers at the dragon’s vulnerable, exposed throat.

There was a grating sound as the twin blades sank through thick skin and cartilage. For a fraction of a second he hung there, long enough to have the beginning of the dawning realization that – somewhat uncharacteristically – he had not thought this through at all. The entire dragon jerked violently, effectively dislodging the knives from the bone, sending them – and Ignis – careening downwards, slicing two deep gouges deep into the dragon’s neck.

Ignis landed with a hard thud. The dragon’s howling turned into a gurgling cry and then there was blood everywhere gushing torrents from the beasts torn carotid artery as it vacated the monsters entire blood supply in mere moments. He threw himself to the side, desperately attempting to avoid the monster’s falling body. The head still hit him, sending him sprawling to the ground, knowing the breath out of him.

And then, it was silent. Ignis lay stunned on the ground before finding enough of his bearings to get back on his feet.

He was covered in it. From head to feet absolutely drenched to the skin in rapidly cooling, thick, coppery-smelling dragon’s blood. He shook his hands in a futile disgusted gesture to get some of it off and wiping the excess from his face. Even his hair was slick with it. Ignis swallowed hard and told himself very sternly that throwing up was not an option.

“Woah.” Prompto was the first one to break the silence. And admittedly, what else was there to be said? No etiquette lesson in the world had prepared Ignis for such a situation, one could hardly expect Prompto to know something better. To his great relief both he and Noctis seemed to be okay. Noct did not look like he had incurred any serious injures, though his hair stood out even more than normal from the electricity. He resisted the temptation to reach out and pat it down.  

“Did you find the mithril?” Ignis asked instead, opting to pretend everything was within normal parameters.

“I, uh, yeah.” Noctis hefted a heavy-looking bag somewhat belatedly by way of demonstration. “Are you okay, Specs?”

“I,” said Ignis rummaging in his pocket for a cleaning cloth for his glasses, only to find it ruined as well, “am covered in demonic viscera.” He put the cleaning cloth away and perched his glasses on his head, he’d see better without them at this point. “I’ve had better days.”

 

***

The return journey was spent mostly in silence and on Ignis’s part, in misery. The hot blood had rapidly cooled in the chilly air, and coagulated, turning his clothes into a half-soggy, half-crusty mess. Misery was an inadequate word to describe the experience, and he could feel Noctis continually glancing at him worried, and Aranea, noticing Noctis looking and smirking like it was all a grand lark. 

Dawn had broken by the time they returned to the surface. Noctis and Aranea were exchanging some pleasantries, Aranea was offering to give them a ride of some sorts, Ignis wasn’t listening. He was far too occupied taking in the vast amounts of water that surrounded them.

Fresh, clean, cool water.

“Uh, Ignis?”

Ignis didn’t even bother answering as he handed off his glasses and cell phone to Prompto before wading out deeper into the lake. The water did not get much deeper than just below waist high. He shrugged out of his jacket and unceremoniously let it drop in the water. It was likely ruined either way, his shirt soon followed, his hands clumsy in their rush to get the garment off. Ignis took a deep breath and dived under. It was the most divine, wonderful experience he had ever encountered. The cool water rinsed the majority of the blood off his arms and chest. He ran his hands through his hair, rubbing out the dried, crusty blood. Emerging from the water he scrubbed as well as he could the remaining blood of off his skin. He inhaled deeply, and feeling some of the tension of the past night dissipate, he exhaled. Pushing his hair back and picking up his shirt and jacket from where they had slowly sunk to the bottom he turned around to return to land.

_Pretty boy stares. It’s not subtle._

And his eyes locked with Noctis on the shore for one long torturous moment. He couldn’t make out Noctis facial expression properly, not without glasses, but he felt heat pooling in his belly, despite the chill air giving him goosebumps.

_You’re not as subtle as you think either._

He wrenched his gaze down forcibly and waded back to shore. “I am going to get changed.” He announced, as if him stripping half-naked and going for a swim was nothing out of the ordinary. “I suggest we take Ms. Highwind’s offer of a ride.”

Noctis made some sort of non-committal sound which Ignis interpreted as assent. He did not look up to meet his eyes, opting to focus on the direction of where they’d left the Regalia. He started walking, trying to shake the feeling of Noctis’s gaze burrowing into his back as he walked away.

_You both stare._


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even have any excuses anymore y'all for the slow pace of updates. I originally intended for this to be part of a longer chapter, but the scenes got longer than I thought they would and I also wanted to send something out so. So, yeah. Hope you enjoy!

When the mysterious hunter who’d gone into the power plant revealed himself to be none other than Gladio, Ignis wasn’t sure if he wanted to punch him or hug him, it had been a long day.  Regardless, either response was inappropriate so Ignis polished his glasses and suggested they retire to the hotel instead. Ignis trailed a couple of paces behind the other three as they walked through the balmy evening. He could hear snippets of chatter as Prompto filled Gladio in on what he’d missed during his solo adventure. No doubt Ignis would have to correct some 60 % of the story at a later date but at the moment it gave him some peace and quiet to think.

Noctis walked on Gladio’s right, hands shoved in his pockets. Ignis tried to discern if there was a line of tension to those shoulders, or weariness, but the dark and the jacket erased all the finer details and Ignis found his mind wandering towards what those shoulders would look like without a jacket to obscure them.

Ignis shook his head and tried to figure out when exactly things got so out of hand. Find a way to be happy, that had been Aranea’s counsel. It wasn’t bad advice per se, just an unusual perspective. He wasn’t unhappy, he just felt happier if he was also… productive. A quick nap on Aranea’s shuttle aside they’d been up for over 24 hours at this point and Ignis found his thoughts drifting pleasantly, in search of happier times, skipping lightly from memory to memory. Cooking breakfast on the road, picking up Prompto and Noctis at the arcade, presenting his master thesis with honours, hours in the kitchen trying to perfect that elusive cake Noctis liked so much. There was a sweet and exotic smell in the air in Lestallum, especially at night and some subconscious part of him had been trying to identify what it was. Not jasmine, or lilies but… Ignis stopped briefly by a window hedged by a climbing vine, dotted by large purple and white flowers: passiflora. Ignis pulled out his notepad and started scribbling. What had Noct said last time? Sweet enough, but needed something tangier. Passionfruit ought to fit the bill for both of those qualities.

“I’m going to the market,” Ignis called out absent-mindedly, trying to remember what the hotel kitchenette had had in stock last time they were there and making a shopping list as he walked.

“Hey, uh, why don’t let me do that?”

Ignis glanced up, surprised, as a shadow fell across his notebook and into Noctis worried eyes. He was tired enough that it took him half a beat to remember why Noct would not want him to go to the market alone, what had happened the last time Ignis had gone there on his own and another half a beat to try and figure out if he was flattered or annoyed by the concern. Noct took a gentle hold of the edge of the notebook, his finger gently brushing against Ignis’s hand and making him lose his entire train of thought.

“I just-“ Noct began.

“All right.” Ignis murmured, a little surprised at his own acquiescence, then cleared his throat. “Take Gladio with you.” It really wouldn’t do if Noct got ambushed at the market either.

Ignis wrote down the last few items on the list and they parted ways as Gladio and Noct headed to the market and Ignis and Prompto returned to the hotel. As much of a chatterbox Prompto could be he was pretty much on his last leg as they walked up the steps to the hotel, so Ignis sent him on his way to crash into bed while Ignis took stock of the kitchenette. Halfway through getting the pots and the dry goods out he found himself leaning on the counter, staring at nothing, trying to pinpoint the exact moment his feelings had changed. Tired mind skipping from memory to memory. Carrying a young Noctis schoolbag. An unprompted compliment to his cooking (“please don’t talk with your mouth full Your Majesty”), a rare smile at the end of a formal function: tie loosened, shirt sleeves pushed back, hair tousled. The smell of citrus in silky hair. He had always been devoted to his job, to his role, to the kingdom.

To Noctis.

Was there a difference between that and..?

Ignis gave himself a shake and started assembling bowls and dry goods. If he prepped everything now and Noctis and Gladio did not take too long at the market he could finish a first experimental batch tonight before going to bed. He was halfway through sifting the flour when his phone rang. Ignis fished it one-handed out of his pocket and stared at the caller-ID in surprise for a moment before hitting speaker and putting the phone on the table.

“Yes Marshall?” He inquired politely.

“Ignis.” The voice at the other end was terse, collected. “Status report.”

“Marshall,” Ignis inclined his head in acquiesce before remembering the marshal could not see him.  “The situation is, considering the circumstances, under control. We are making the necessary preparations to head for Altissa.”

“And His Majesty?”

“He is well.”

“No trouble in Gladio’s absence?”

Ignis hesitated for a moment. “Nothing we… could not resolve.” He finally said. “We had an unusual encounter on the way with some troubling implications.”

Ignis proceeded to give a rundown of the encounter with Madeline as he separated whites from yolks.

“And you believe this daemon is the same woman who kidnapped you.” The Marshall was a hard man to read but Ignis thought he read a hint of skepticism there.

“I discovered corroborating evidence at the military base. I believe it is an avenue worth exploring.”

“Gladio debriefed me on his recent journey of the circumstances considering your ordeal,” Cor’s voice came through the speakers in cool clipped tones, “Are you quite certain you remember things correctly?”

Ignis had to bite his tongue to keep the spike of anger in check. _It’s a reasonable question considering the circumstances_ he reminded himself.

“Written evidence.” He supplemented coolly. 

“And you are certain nothing of importance was revealed while you were there.”

 _By me_ Ignis supplemented silently. On a personal level Ignis felt like bristling at the implication that he would crack so easily under pressure. On a professional level he could hardly fault the Marshall for looking into potential security breaches. They both knew the stakes.

“I can assure you Marshall that no information has been divulged to the Empire” he responded calmly. “Nor anyone else.”

There must’ve been a hint of something other than his signature professionalism because when Cor spoke up again his voice sounded an infinitesimal shade more gentle.

“You were never a fan of keeping this quiet. It would be understandable if you found it difficult to maintain your silence over time, considering the circumstances.”

“I disagreed with His Majesty’s decision to not inform his son about his suspicions about Niflheim’s intentions,” Ignis agreed stiffly, “but I have respected it regardless, and carried out my orders.”

“Your orders to do what?”

Ignis hand froze mid-stir, the question passing through his body almost like something physical, a wave of heat and dread. He squeezed his eyes shut hard for one long second before opening them again.

“Marshall,” His voice was surprisingly steady. “I will have to call you back.” He didn’t wait for a reply before hanging up. His hands resting flat on the counter.

“Your orders to do _what_ , Ignis?” He finally turned around as Noctis repeated the question. There was still a smudge of sooth on his cheek after his trip into the reactor. Gladio stood behind him, holding a bag of groceries, his expression dark and unreadable.

Ignis wished he knew what he looked like to Noctis in that moment. He breathed in and in that space between breaths he struggled to figure out what the right thing to do was. Not just proper. But right.

“After the cease-fire was agreed upon His Majesty summoned me.” Ignis began, toweling the flour off of his hands.

*******

 

_An unexpected advantage of long legs was that one could walk rather quickly without looking rushed, an important quality in a royal advisor. Ignis was rarely not in a hurry these days, yet even so a summons by His Royal Majesty was highly unusual. His thoughts briefly flickered between different potential subjects. The last battle on their eastern border, the cease-fire agreement, Noctis’s upcoming wedding._

_Ignis lengthened his step another hair._

**_***_ **

_The royal servant had escorted Ignis into the ante-chamber of His Majesty’s private office before leaving to alert the King that his visitor had arrived, another unusual choice. Ignis studied the art on the walls, hands clasped behind his back and reminded himself to breathe calmly from the diaphragm. The muffled sound of a heavy door dragging over a thick carpet caused him to turn his head._

_“His Majesty will see you now.” The elder man informed him._

_His Majesty was seated behind an ornate desk, a pile of paperwork temporarily set to the side, his eyes fixed upon Ignis as he entered. Ignis glance flickered briefly to the side where Cor and Clarus, Gladio’s father, stood silently. Ignis gaze flickered back to His Majesty’s. They were kind, always were, and sad. Ignis bowed as he came to a stop before the desk._

_“Your Grace,” he murmured._

_“Ignis,” His Majesty smiled lightly, “no need to stand on ceremony.”_

_“To what do I owe the honour, Your Majesty?” Ignis responded, earning a fond sigh from the king. He had once suggested that Ignis call him Regis and chuckled merrily at Ignis flustered sputtering._

_“You are aware of the esteemed visitor We received to the capital recently, and the terms of the peace accord.”_

_Ignis nodded, “preparations for Prince Noctis and Lady Lunafreya’s wedding are underway and proceeding accordingly. I expect we will be ready to depart within a month.” It gave him a somewhat hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach to say that, despite having overseen the project pretty much since the departure of the Chancellor._

_“I am going to need you to move up your departure to one week from today.”_

_Ignis blinked at the unexpected response from the King, and quickly masked his surprise with another bow. “Certainly your majesty, I will alert the necessary staff to expedite the process.”_

_“Actually, we are going to need you to keep this as quiet as possible.” Claros spoke up for the first time. Ignis glanced at him and then back to the King. “Sir,” he ventured as politely as he could muster, “is there some development I should be aware of?”_

_“We have no reason to be trustful of Niflheim’s offer,” Cor spoke up, “we suspect that it is being used as a means to gain access to the city.”_

_“Then why are we going along with it?” Ignis frowned, “it will leave the city exposed from attacks from the inside.”_

_“Because we are losing this war regardless.” The King spoke again, “and this offers us the chance to strike right at the Empire’s leadership.”_

_“Then why is not the prince here?” Ignis asked with an increasing sense of dread in his stomach, “or Gladio?”_

_The three men exchanged a glance between them and suddenly Ignis understood._

_“Oh.” He hadn’t realized that he’d made a sound until the King got up and out of his chair, the leg brace making the process slow and laborious. He moved slowly around the table, coming to a stop in front of Ignis. The king was a good inch shorter than him, had that always been the case?_

_“You know my son better than anyone.” The King put a warm hand on his shoulder. “If he knew of our suspicions, what would he do?”_

_Ignis didn’t need to answer that question, he knew the answer all too well, as did His Majesty. His throat felt tight and his hands clenched at his sides._

_“Keep him safe for me?” The King’s voice, always gentle, carried just the barest quiver, a light sheen in his eyes._

_His duty to his king demanded that he go, yet his duty to his prince required that he asked._

_“And there is no other way, Your Majesty?” He whispered, not quite trusting his voice to carry._

_The King smiled, kindly. Ignis needed no other answer. He bowed and took his leave._

**_***_ **

“You didn’t tell me,” Noctis’s voice came out in a shocked whisper after Ignis finished his tale, “not even after he…” he trailed off and then with a heartbreaking, reedy anguish, “Why would he order you to do something like that? _Why didn’t you tell me!?”_

Ignis opened his mouth to respond and found his tounge sticking to the roof of his mouth. _I didn’t want to hurt you, I didn’t want you to die, I didn’t want you to have to carry this burden, I didn’t want you to blame yourself. I didn’t want you to think you could’ve done anything differently._

_I wanted to protect you._

“I could’ve done something,” Noctis continued angrily, “I could’ve saved him!”

“Your father knew you would have wanted to stay.” Ignis responded, excruciatingly calm in the face of Noctis’s anger. “He took steps to ensure your safety.”

The silence that followed was one of the longest, most painful silences of Ignis’s life as Noctis stared him down, chest heaving, eyes dark with anger.

“And now” Noctis finally said, smoldering calm, “I’ll never have the chance.” He turned on his heel and slammed the kitchen door on his way out.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't mean to end all of these as dramatic cliff-hangers, I swear. I have a problem. Hope you liked it! Please don't hesitate to leave a comment and let me know what you think :)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're not dead in the water yet! Sorry this took so long, as always. On the upside this is a bit longer than usual, hope you enjoy!

*******

The morning came clear and bright and full of misery. While Gladio hadn’t erupted like Noctis the other night he had been none too thrilled with the past nights events. He needed to think, he’d said. Someone, Gladio or Noctis, must have told Prompto what had happened because he sat in unhappy silence either staring out at the landscape or fiddling with his phone. Noctis pretended to nap. Much to his surprise, Ignis had slept well and through the night. Yet the new morning had not shed any additional light on the situation and it didn’t seem to help him solve his quandary. No matter how many times he laid out the facts before him he came to the same conclusion. He was right to obey King Regis’s orders. He was wrong not to tell Noctis. It was a marvelous illustration of a lose-lose situation but one Ignis couldn’t quite bring himself to appreciate. He knew he needed to make amends with Noctis somehow, but without understanding exactly how and why it all had gone wrong he didn’t know how.

 

What was he supposed to say?

 

What was he supposed to do?

 

 

The road back to Cape Caern was a beautiful mountainous vista affording an unparalleled view of the ocean. Ignis was, however, far too occupied by the landscape of his inner misery to take much heed, which was probably why none of them noticed the Magitek dropship until it was almost right on top of them.  Ignis swore as he manipulated the Regalia into a tight turn onto a small rest stop beside the road. Cautiously climbing a small hill gave them the opportunity to overlook the situation beyond the bend in the road. Ignis did not care for the circumstances. A full company stood at attention, their empty eyes staring at nothing yet clearly waiting for something. Them, probably. 

 

Gladio swore quietly, “how do they keep finding us?” He muttered. 

“I don't know,” Ignis admitted uneasily, it was a question he’d been asking himself more and more lately without a satisfactory answer, “Getting through won’t be easy.”

“Why’d they have to be here?” Noctis swore. Ignis glanced his way cautiously, trying to gauge his mood. He looked more angry than sullen. An improvement considering the circumstances.

Gladio squinted, “looks like they’re on high alert.

“But this is the only way through,” Prompto commented, sounding nervous.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Noctis commented, glancing wryly at Prompto, who grinned, suddenly eager. Ignis felt his heart clench in worry.

“You bet I am! Let’s give this a-

“We can’t shoot blindly, we need a plan first.” Ignis interrupted, a shade harsher than he had intended. His eyes met Noctis, cool and unreadable but he remembered the hurt and the betrayal in those eyes from the night before, still in there somewhere. Hidden. He wanted to order Noctis to the back, to survey from above, to stay safe, let Gladio take the charge.  _He’s not your prince anymore, he’s king now._

“Noct… take the lead.” He had to swallow, this was the best strategy, the one most likely to succeed. “If you go all out you can take out half their numbers in the first swipe. We’ll cover your flank.” 

 

There was a tense moment of silence as Noctis stared at him, whatever he was thinking or feeling hidden beneath that porcelain blank surface. Then he nodded. 

“Got it.”

 

Ignis blinked and he was gone, the warp leaving impressions of a flash against the inside of his eyelid. Gladio swore about Noctis not waiting for them to get into position as they ran to catch up with his onslaught. At first the plan seemed to be working perfectly. Noctis first hit sent a shockwave through the MT’s ranks, sending them flying, ready to be finished off by a quick bullet or the stab of a dagger. Throwing a dagger into the head of a nearby MT Ignis almost smiled as Noctis used the momentum of impacting with one of the robotic soldiers to jump off and cleave another in clean in half with his sword, there were only stragglers left. Then he heard the whirring sound of an approaching airship. 

 

Turning quickly and scanning the sky it soon emerged behind them, flying lower still. Ignis squinted as the maw opened to reveal rows of MT’s ready to jump down, as well as an enormous… box? That was odd, and worrying. He did not like threats he could not asses. 

“They’re blocking us in,” Gladio noted tersely, wiping the machine oil from his blade. Ignis nodded agreement with the assessment. With the parked MT ship behind them and the other one approaching from the same direction they themselves had come from they had no way out.

“This is a trap” Ignis observed with a sinking feeling in his chest as the maw of the ship opened and MT’s began pouring out.

 

The box fell with a deceptive slowness that belied the great crashing sound it made when it impacted the ground. The MT’s were unmoving, apparently waiting for something to happen. The short side of the box fell open with a dull thud. For one brief moment, the only thing that could be heard was the wind and the crash of the waves far below them. Then something dry rustled within the enormous box, and began to slither.  Ignis’s breath caught in his throat as enormous coils undulated out of the box, ending finally in the shape of a six-armed woman, staring them down, her eyes human in shape but hard and calculating like a pure predator. 

“Noct,” Ignis breathed, “is that..?”

“Yeah,” Noctis sounded oddly clinical and calm. “No doubt about it, that’s definitely-“

“What _is_ that?” Prompto interjected as the creatures stretched upward in it's full, impressive length.

“That is…” Ignis began, searching (and failing) to find a delicate way to phrase himself “… the monster that nearly took Noct’s life” 

 

And who had killed Noctis’s mother so many years ago. Noctis hadn’t been more than a child at the time. Not that it needed mentioning, everyone in Lucis knew the tragic story. Ignis was more concerned with two things, the new MT’s were moving and attempting to surround them, and the distant look on Noctis’s face. He took a step.

“Noct-“ Ignis began but was interrupted by a stray bullet from the MT’s whizzing past close his ear. Noct ignored him and took another step, and another before he broke into a run, charging the enormous demon, roaring with rage. 

“NOCT!” Ignis attempted to follow but a hand on his shoulder pulled him back sharply, pulling him out of the way of a downward slicing blade. 

“Watch it!” Gladio yelled, and then the MT’s were on them. Ignis tried desperately to cut through them to get to Noct, but there were too many.

“Noct! We need to pull back!” He called out desperately,

“I didn’t ask for your opinion!” Noct yelled back angrily. He barely caught a glimpse here and there as Noct attempted to breach the demons defenses but her size, and the six, sword-wielding arms made her defenses hard to breach even for Noct. And he was getting sloppy with rage. Ignis dispatched an MT with a vicious upwards slash across its throat when it happened. Noctis dove in and she lashed back with a roar. Her tail hit him broadside and sent him flying like a rag doll over the cliff, and into the sea.

 

Some part of him let him know that he was crying out in anguish and rage. An almost inhuman sound that would have startled and maybe even frightened him in any other circumstances. But his vision had narrowed down to the point where Noctis had fallen over the cliff and to a single thought. He had to get there. Had to get him, had to save him. But the MT’s were piling up, seemingly endless, and now the daemon was free to turn her eyes on them. He couldn't get through. Every second stretched painfully long, every MT he brought down brought him such an achingly short distance closer. It wasn’t enough he didn’t have time, he needed to be faster. He threw himself to the side hard as the daemon swiped at him, only narrowly avoiding being cut in half. Her reach made it almost impossible to get close enough to do any really damage. Or to get around her to where Noct had disappeared.

 

The minuets ticked by and Ignis knew the likelihood of return after such a fall, holding your breath under water was almost impossible and yet- The daemon suddenly roared in outrage as a blade pierce her shoulder. A relief so profound it almost made his knees give out washed over Ignis as Noctis warped back into the fray. This time with the full royal arsenal activated. With most of the MT’s dispatched they could all turn their full attention on the daemon and began to push her back. Noctis got two pairs of arms in the first shockwave of attacks, making her howl in pain and outrage. Gladio and Ignis attacked from behind, distracting and enraging her while Prompto shot a flurry of bullets at her head, forcing her to dodge. And then it seemed almost inevitable, though not quite. Her tail lashed out and caught Prompto midriff, sending him flying before they get the second pair of arms. Gladio got clipped over the head by an MT they all somehow had missed, forcing Ignis to slide in to parry the next, potentially fatal, blow with his daggers, the entire blow reverberating through his body. Suddenly it was just Noctis and the monster, howling at him. She launched at him. Ignis breath caught in his throat as it looked as if her blade went right through him, but he phased. Just a hair of a millimeter and then he cut upwards, hard. The sword sliced up and through her neck. 

 

It fell to the ground with a dull thud.

 

An unnatural moment of silence enveloped the scene. And then her body slowly went limp, the end of her tail slipped over the edge and with a deafening crash she collapsed to the ground and fell into the sea, leaving the grotesque head behind. Ignis could hear Prompto and Gladio whooping in the background, but his focus was on Noctis, standing with his back to them, staring at the place where the monster had fallen into the water. The monster that had killed his mother, who not even his father could defeat, was dead. Yet his entire back line revealed rigid tension. He took a step forwards, and another. And sank on to his knees. And cried. Something hot and painful seemed to pierce Ignis chest, he was barely conscious of moving, that he was limped from an injury, his leg caked in drying blood. He just knew he needed to get to Noctis. 

 

“I couldn’t save them, I couldn’t save them,” Noctis sobbed as Ignis sank down on his knees and pulled him to his chest. His entire body was shaking with huge heaving sobs.

“I know, I know.” His voice felt raspy as he pulled the prince as close as he could. Noctis tears wetting his chest. His eyes were stinging, his vision blurring with tears. “I’m sorry,” he whispered over and over as Noctis wept. “I’m so, so sorry.” 

 

*******

 

Noctis’s face looked peaceful in the fading light. No longer shivering from the wet and cold, his chest rising slowly and evenly. Using even just one royal weapons was exhausting, all of them at the same time? Ignis wasn’t sure how Noctis had managed to pull it off. He had fallen asleep, exhausted, in the backseat. His face still stained with tears.

 

When they had finally arrived in Cape Caern in the early afternoon Gladio had carried the sleeping prince up the slope and into the house. Noctis had barely stirred. Hours had passed and now, as sun was setting, the prince remained asleep. Ignis had seen him like this a thousand times, the prince was an incommensurable napper. And yet now Ignis found himself staring with a new-found intensity. Tracing the delicate features of the face, sub-consciously counting the seconds between each breath. _He didn’t drown,_ he reminded himself. The prince was safe.

 

Not because of Ignis though. How had the empire managed to find them? The thought had gnawed at the back of his mind ever since he got into the driver’s seat and all the way to Cape Caern. Their other encounters Ignis might’ve written off as poor luck, roving magitek ships spotting the distinctive regalia at a distance. Ignis took off his glasses and pulled off a polishing cloth and began to clean his glasses again. He didn’t care for explaining things in such a way. Circumstance and poor luck could explain some of those instance, but not all. And this was different. Such a set-up required extensive planning. It was almost as if-

 

His hands stilled on the glasses. Frowning, eyes staring at nothing. He got up. It was almost dark and he had to find Cindy.

 

*******

 

Ignis put the small, round receiver down on the kitchen counter with a soft click and wearily rubbed at his temples, leaving another oily smudge there. Once he had explained his suspicions to Cindy they had together winched up the Regalia and gotten to work. And now the offending item was sitting in front of him. It was dark enough that he could no longer quite distinguish the finer details, not that it mattered. If Cindy was correct, and he saw no reason to doubt her, this receiver was what had allowed the empire to track them ever since they had captured the Regalia.

 

Ignis absent-mindedly rubbed on the oil smudge on his temple. The issue at hand was what to do with the offending item. He had hoped to find a way to get rid of the transmitter without alerting the empire to the fact. Perhaps by sending it away with a hunter via car or chocobo, but he could not in good conscience put someone else in such danger. Thus destroying the transmitter remained, which undoubtedly would alert the empire that the device had been discovered. Should he do it now, or should he wait until the morning when they left for Altissia? Waiting too long meant a risk that the empire would send soldiers to their current location, yet destroying it might mean that they would send soldiers to investigate. Ignis sighed in frustration, he was going in circles, getting nowhere.

 

“You’re up late.”

Ignis turned, startled, at the sound of Noctis voice. He was dressed in a plain t-shirt and pajama bottoms, his hair sticking out every which way. Ignis hadn’t heard him come padding down the stairs on bare feet. How long had he been standing there?

“I believe we’ve found the reason the Empire has managed to track us with such ease.” Ignis commented, holding up the small receiver.

“Hm,” Noctis nodded but otherwise said nothing. There was a strange feeling between them that Ignis found difficult to navigate. The events of the day, the reveal of the king’s last orders to Ignis, this did not even touch upon their previous… entanglements. The silence stretched. Ignis missed the time when he could look at Noctis and properly gauge what he was thinking. He pushed up one slightly trailing sleeve of his untucked shirt. He would have to throw this shirt out, the oil smudges were unlikely to come out. It was a deviation from his usually proper appearance and it added to his sense of disorientation.

 

“Are you all right?” He finally asked gently as the silence grew long.

 

Noctis shrugged, sharp and irritable. “What does it matter?”

 

“Noct-“

 

“I still have to go to Altissia and marry Luna and fight this stupid war that I’m probably not even going to survive-“

 

“ _That is enough Noct!_ ” Ignis could feel plastic and metal cut into his fist as he slammed it hard against the kitchen counter, the receiver breaking beneath his fist. A stunned silence followed his words. Ignis never raised his voice.

 

“Don’t you understand?” He continued, his voice straining to stay even. “You cannot take risks like you did today, this is all for you. Without you this is all pointless.”

 

“Then why won’t you trust me?” Noctis continued, taking an angry step towards Ignis, “Why didn’t you tell me about dad?”

 

It had the ring of truth to it, and it hurt. “I had orders, Noctis, to keep you safe-“

 

“You keep saying that!”

 

“I did not know what else to do-“

 

“Bullshit.” Noctis voice was hoarse as he ground the word out, his hands balled into fist. His eyes that he usually guarded so carefully, two deep pools of anguished grief. It hurt regardless.

 

“I don’t always know what I’m doing, Noct.” His throat felt constricted, forcing his voice into a reedy whisper. “I make mistakes. I’m sorry.” _I’m so, so sorry that I hurt you._

 

“And what about us?” Noctis said after a pause. It felt like such a sudden switch that Ignis had to blink hard to try and reorient himself. “Was that a mistake?”

The answer came to him so surely, without hesitation. “No.”

“Then why can’t we..?” Noctis left the question unasked, voice brimming with frustration. The short space between them felt like a maw.

“Because loving you is not enough, Noct.” He responded with a snap. “You are King. You have responsibilities…” he trailed off in the midst of his brain catching up to what his mouth had done and the look on Noctis’s face as he stared at Ignis. Silence lay like a thick blanket on the room and Ignis felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“Love.” Noctis finally said, faintly.

Ignis had to look down, to get away from those eyes searching him. He took a deep breath and forced himself to look back up, to meet those eyes that seemed to see him, all of him, for the first time. “Surely, you must know this.” _Surely you must know how utterly you have my devotion._

Noctis must’ve phased. Ignis must have blinked because suddenly Noctis was right there. Ignis took half a step back from the impact and bumped right into the kitchen counter. He could feel Noctis’s hands sliding up across his chest, pulling him down into a kiss. His mouth was hot, almost feverish, and demanding. He bit down just a shade to hard on Ignis’s lower lip who gasped. Their tongues tangled. Ignis slid his hands up under Noctis’s shirt, raking his fingers across his lithe back. Noctis’s hands found their way inside his shirt, ghosting across his chest. Ignis made a choked sound at the back of his throat as Noctis’s hip ground into his.

And then a door upstairs opened creakily.

“I could make eggs if you like, highness” Ignis said, trying to figure out both how he’d gotten across the room to the refrigerator so quickly and if they, indeed, had eggs.

“Oh Noct you’re awake, I’m so happy!” Iris chirpy voice rang out from the end of the stair as she bounded down the last steps. “We were all so worried! Ignis wouldn’t leave your bedside y’know.”

Noctis responded with one of his usual grumbles. Ignis used the cover of the refrigerator door to quickly flatten his hair and then turned around, carton of eggs mercifully in hand. “Would you like some as well, Miss Amicita?” He asked kindly.

Ignis and Noctis ate in silence as Iris bubbled effortlessly. Ignis quietly vowed to never make eggs ever again. It was some time before Iris drifted back upstairs, Ignis and Noctis reluctantly following, their steps slow on the stairs. Ignis silently escorted Noct to his door, who immediately rounded on him the second Iris’s door closed.

“You better not be-“ Noctis began irritated. The walls were thin up on the second landing so Ignis cut the argument short with a kiss, one hand delicately cupped around the prince’s chin.

“We’ll talk,” He promised.

“Just talk?” Noctis countered, though the blush took some of the cheek out of his statement.

“We’ll talk someplace more… private.” Ignis promised. He placed one final, light kiss on Noctis’s lips. “Sleep well, your highness.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Admit it. Y'all have wondered how the MT's keep finding our boys. Mystery solved! I always have conflicted feelings about including scenes from the canon in a fanfic, but it felt like such an important piece of character development for Noctis and talking about it as if it had happened offstage didn't seem right, so that's part of why this got so long. I hope you enjoyed this! Let me know what you think in the comments. :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you liked it please leave a comment :) 
> 
> I know this first part is a bit short, there'll be more chapters to follow shortly!


End file.
